Gilligan in a Bottle
by MildlyInsane
Summary: Gilligan finds a magic bottle with a genie inside and is granted 3 wishes. What will he wish for? In this AU story, the characters' traits are exaggerated/acknowledged. This is a sort of humor, so don't feel too bad about anything I've written. Complete!
1. Chapter 1

_**Summary:** __Gilligan finds a magic bottle with a genie inside. __Skipper and Gilligan are in an abusive relationship. Ginger is a prostitute. The reclusive Professor produces and traffics drugs throughout the island. Mr. and Mrs. Howell think their Monopoly game money is real. And Mary Ann is just Mary Ann.  
_

_**Author's Notes:** It's 2:30 in the morning. This is probably going to be the worst story ever. But please, continue reading... Maybe you'll like it. Don't people say that it is late at night when one is most creative or something? We'll see..._

**xxxxxx**

Gilligan traipsed through the jungle of the island he had been sharing with his "friends" for what seemed like forever. Despite the fact that the seven of them lived in four small huts in a relatively small clearing on the island, Gilligan often found large chunks of time during which he could be by himself. Oftentimes, he rather preferred to be alone.

The others were simply awful to be around most of the time. They blamed him for everything. Sure, he messed up a lot, but then, they should know better than to keep getting him involved in all of their so called "important" rescue plots. As if any of them wanted to be rescued anyway...

The minute they were rescued, Gilligan and Skipper would be out of jobs. Skipper would blame it on Gilligan and probably clock him upside the head for it. The Professor would probably be arrested when their rescuers discovered all of the drugs he had made out of resources on the island. The Howells would go back to the trailer park; those on the island liked to pretend that the crazy old bats had some sort of privileged authority, but their monopoly game money would be no good in the real world. Mary Ann, of course... all she did in Kansas was farm... That was basically the same thing that she did on the island. She probably couldn't care one way or the other. Ginger was probably the only one who really wanted off the island. She pursued the same profession here as there, but didn't get any customers, and wouldn't have been paid anyway, except in pink, blue, green, white, and golden monopoly bills...

Gilligan skipped merrily along. He was happy on the island. Even though Skipper didn't appreciate him and blamed him for every misfortune, even ones that were clearly not his fault. Gilligan was blamed for the weather being unfavorable, for a spider getting into The Skipper's hammock, and for Skipper running into things when Gilligan failed to warn him that he was about to walk into something due to his own carelessness.

Usually Gilligan would just cover his face and hope for the best. Sometimes he'd run off before Skipper got the chance to smack him with his hat. Even though it was just a little hat, it still hurt to be hit with it...

Gilligan whistled as he explored the island. He knew the island better than anyone else. They were always occupied with other meaningless things, while Gilligan got to know his new home. He knew where there were caves, where there were beautiful waterfalls, and were he could find the most delicious pineapples on the island. He knew where there was gold (but didn't tell the others, because he knew they would all fight over it, even though it was worthless here.) He even knew where there was a beautiful glass bottle, that seemed to sparkle even when there was no light shining on it.

That's where he was going now, to see the beautiful bottle. He had to keep it in the back of a cave, because he knew the others would steal it if he brought it back to camp. The Professor would want to know what was in it so he could use it to make drugs. Skipper, Ginger, and the Howells would want it because it might be worth money. Mary Ann would probably be curious... of course Gilligan didn't think she'd actually steal it...

He wriggled his way through the tunnels of the cave until he reached a small chamber, illuminated by the wondrous bottle. He smiled and reached out for it, plucking it up and gazing at it. It was so pretty, and it was all his.

He had found it a while ago, but had never actually opened it. It was sealed with a cork, and didn't seem to have anything it it... but maybe he was mistaken. He decided to open it up, here, alone in the small chamber of the cave. If there was something neat-o inside, he didn't want anyone immediately stealing it away from him.

So he popped the cork and prepared to peer inside. But just as he was leaning over to look inside, something came rushing out, hitting him in the eye and knocking him backwards.

Gilligan yelped and put his hand over his eye. He could already feel a bruise coming on. While he worried himself over his newly bruised eye, something magical was happening within the cave. Sparkles and lights flew everywhere, while Gilligan barely noticed. But he did notice a little. His attention was quickly turned away from his eye and toward the wonderful magic that was happening before him.

Lights shone, sparkles flew, air flowed, everything felt perfect (except for Gilligan's eye, of course.) He looked in amazement as all the sparkles and mist settled to reveal a giant looking man squeezed into the small chamber of the cave. He looked like any ordinary man, but was a bit taller than most ordinary men.

"Oh boy!" Gilligan exclaimed, "that was real neat. How'd you do that?"

The man looked down at him, "did my cork damage your eye?" he asked, "I apologize."

Gilligan had forgotten about that, "It's okay. I'm the one who opened it too fast. Wait... _your_ cork? I'm the one who found this bottle. It's mine, fair and square... um... unless you're a headhunter... then you can have it," he shuddered and pushed the bottle toward the giant man, giving it up so that hopefully the giant would take the bottle instead of his head. It was a great bottle, but it would be worthless to a headless dead man.

"Headhunter?" the tall man laughed, "not at all. The bottle is yours, fair and square, as you say. But it's also mine, in regard to the fact that it contains me while I'm dormant."

Gilligan shook his head and shrugged, indicating that he hadn't understood most of what the man had just said, "So... Whatcha doing in here?" he asked, "you know, this cave is the littlest one on the island. I can barely even squeeze in here. I picked it because I knew no one else could get in. So... you're kinda giant. How you gonna get out? And how did you get in here?" Gilligan tilted his head in confusion. He looked at the tall man, to the small tunnel he had used to get into the cave, and then back at the man again, "all the butter in the world isn't going help squeeze you outta here."

"You've just released me, young lad," the man explained, "From the bottle. Surely you guess what's going on here..." Gilligan looked unsure, so the large man continued, "You've got three wishes... I'm sure you've heard of genies before."

"Genies? Really! You're a genie?" Gilligan couldn't contain his excitement, "Oh boy! Wait till I tell the others! Hmmm... or maybe I shouldn't... Say, would you be insulted if I make my wishes here, and don't bring you back to camp with me? I mean, it's a pretty little space here in the cave, but since you've been living in a bottle, I suppose you're used to it," Gilligan chuckled. He loved making slightly witty remarks. No one else laughed at his jokes, so he often just laughed at them himself.

"Not at all," the genie replied, "you may go about your wishes however you see fit. The small space doesn't bother me a bit. Like you say, I've been in a bottle all this time, and will be retreating back into it whenever I'm not useful. Whenever you need me, simply open the bottle back up, and there I'll be. But, I'll tell you, even if you share with your friends that you've found me, the wishes are all still yours."

"Yeah... but they'll bully me into wishing for what they want. And they don't even know what they want," Gilligan explained.

"Do you know what you want?" the genie asked, "Of course, I mean not to rush you. You've got all the time in the world."

"I'm gonna have to think about it," Gilligan said, "can I come back tomorrow? Will you still be here?"

The genie nodded, "I will be wherever you leave me, always, until you've made your three wishes. Pop the cork, but carefully next time. I feel awful about hurting your eye, but I cannot mend it unless it is one of your wishes, so another apology will have to do."

"I told you, it was my fault," Gilligan repeated, "You don't have to apologize for it. I'm always goofing up, hurting myself and breaking things. I'm used to it."

"Still, do be careful in opening the bottle next time," the genie said again.

Gilligan threw his arms out and embraced his new genie-friend, "I better be getting back before they start worrying and start looking for me. Thank you for giving me three wishes, Genie. Boy-o-boy. Three wishes..."

The genie nodded, "Until next we meet," he smiled and shrunk back into the bottle.

Gilligan carefully lifted the bottle off the ground and placed it gently in the corner of the cave. "Good night, Genie," he said, and crawled back out of the cave. He began his trek back to camp, hoping that when he got back, no one would blame him for anything he didn't do.

**xxxxxx**

_Review. I'll write more when insomnia strikes again..._**  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** _Hey... I think I've written chapter 2! You can read it if you want!_

_Did I do a disclaimer? Nope. Does it really matter? Here's one for you: I'm not Sherwood Smith or whoever Sherwood Schwarts, right? I didn't make up Gilligan's Island, or else I'd probably be dead now. The characters are not of my creation. Except the genie, but he's not too impressive of a character. Sherwood can have him._

_Here you go:  
_

**xxxxxx**

It would be impossible to describe how excited Gilligan felt as he skipped merrily back to camp. He wondered what he should wish for. Considering that he was already very happy with his current life situation, it was difficult to decide what could possibly make him happier. The others on the island were kind of mean sometimes, but he really did like them, and didn't necessarily want to change anything about them.

Skipper abused him all the time, but if Skipper suddenly never yelled at him and never hit him, he would probably never hear from the man at all. After all, Gilligan thought, negative attention is better than no attention. At least Skipper paid attention to him.

The professor was a bit odd, always mixing things in his little lab, but some of those drugs had proven very handy whenever one of the castaways was sick, and many of his inventions had been very useful as well. Even though he was reclusive, refusing to share a hut with anyone, he never did anything mean or hurtful. His desire to be secluded probably helped him think and helped him invent things. If he was more outgoing, he probably would never invent anything.

The Howells, despite their general insanity, were rather friendly most of the time. Even though their ficticious money was their number one priority, when something really important was going down, they were always willing to give that up. Gilligan saw them as parental figures... or at least as grand-parental figures...

Ginger was a bit inappropriate at times, but she wasn't a bad person... She was always sympathetic when the occasion called for it. And even though she used her sexy woman charms to get anything she wanted, she only did so because she knew it usually worked. If Gilligan was a sexy woman, he might do the same thing. Probably not... but maybe.

Mary Ann was a very sweet girl, and was probably Gilligan's best friend on the island. Sure, Skipper was his best friend in a way. They spent a lot of time together and took care of each other, but he just wasn't as sensitive and understanding as Mary Ann. She was closer to his age and didn't yell at him like Skipper did or try to molest him all the time like Ginger did. Mary Ann was his best friend when he needed someone to listen to his troubles or to make him feel better when he missed his mother. Skipper was his best friend when he needed help doing manual labor, needed someone to save him from head hunters, or just needed someone to keep him organized.

Over all, he didn't really want to change them. Gilligan recognized that everyone had flaws of some sort or another, but also recognized that it was these flaws that helped bring out their positive attributes. He didn't want to rid his friends of their flaws, because they wouldn't be the same people if he did.

So if he wasn't going to change anyone, what else could he wish for to make his life on the island better? What did he not like about living there? He didn't like the headhunters. But was it their fault that they grew up in a culture where hunting heads was an acceptable pastime? Perhaps he could wish that the castaways and the headhunters would be on peaceful terms, so the headhunters could stay on their own island and do their own thing, and Gilligan wouldn't have to be scared of them anymore.

He nodded to himself. That sounded like a very worthy wish.

Just then, Gilligan collided with something very big. He fell backwards, hitting the ground, which knocked all the breath out of his lungs. He wasn't surprised that he had run into something, because it happened to him a lot while he was busy thinking or daydreaming while simultaneously walking, running, or sprinting. Nevertheless, he still felt a twinge of panic as he tried to get his lungs working again, and he hoped that it had been a tree he had collided with and not something more sinister, like a head hunter or a lion.

Just as his lungs starting working again, he felt a familiar thud as a flimsy sailor's cap came into contact with his head. He winced, but was glad that he had run into the Skipper instead of something that might actually kill him "Will you watch where you're going, you numskull!" The Skipper yelled, then offered his hand to help Gilligan stand up.

Gilligan grabbed onto the Skipper's hand and was pulled to his feet. He dusted sand off of his pants as he spoke, "Sorry Skipper," Gilligan frowned, "I didn't see you there."

"Of course you didn't," Skipper looked annoyed, "I was standing right in front of you! How do you make your way all the way through the jungle, back to camp from wherever you've been all day when you aren't even looking in front of yourself? I'm amazed you haven't fallen into a crater by now."

"Well, I know where everything is on the island," Gilligan protested, "I don't have to look, because I know where I'm going... except you usually aren't there. The trees don't move around, so I can avoid them without looking," Skipper looked like he was ready to snap, but Gilligan shrunk back a little and continued in his explanation, "the trees are always in the same place, but you aren't... How could I have known you'd be right here?"

Skipper sighed and smacked Gilligan with his hat again, "by watching where you're going!" he yelled.

Gilligan sighed, "I said 'sorry,'" he looked up at Skipper, "I'll look where I'm going next time."

"I wish I could believe that, Gilligan," Skipper still seemed annoyed but his voice had softened.

"Well," Gilligan started, "I guess we should get back to camp. Maybe help Mary Ann cook dinner."

Skipper nodded, "maybe you should just let her handle it," he suggested. He looked like he was going to elaborate; probably say something about Gilligan's habit of messing up everything he ever was involved in. Instead, however, he brought his hand up to Gilligan's chin and tilted his first mate's face upwards, "Little Buddy! What happened to your eye! I can't believe I didn't notice that sooner! Are you alright?"

Gilligan stared back at the Skipper. He had forgotten about his eye. It didn't even hurt. He reached up and touched the top of his cheek, just under his eye. Ouch. It did hurt when he poked it, "Um... does it look really bad?"

"No," Skipper responded, "not too bad. Your face looks the same as always, except a purple bruise right under your eye. It looks painful, but it could definitely be worse. But seriously, Gilligan, what happened?"

Gilligan hesitated. He couldn't tell Skipper the truth. He couldn't tell anyone about his genie, "I... uh... I was um... in - I was helping the Professor... with... I was doing an experiment... helping him do one... and I opened a bottle and the cork flew up and hit my eye!" he grinned. That was only half-way a lie, and there's no way Skipper could say that a cork wouldn't make a mark like that, because that part really was the truth... Unless magical corks worked differently than regular ones.

Skipper frowned, "Don't spend too much time with the professor, okay, Little Buddy?" he looked genuinely concerned.

Now Gilligan frowned as well, "Why not? It's not his fault the cork hit me in the eye."

"Well... he's a nice guy and all... but he's got so many strange mixtures over there... just don't eat anything while you're visiting his hut, okay? Can you promise me that? I don't want to say you can't visit him, because I know he means no harm, but it's not his actions that I'm worried about. I know you. Your mind is always straying and you're always messing with things you should just leave alone. He's got all sorts of containers full of weird mixtures and powders, but when you visit, you need to keep your hands off those things. Don't mess with strange bottles if you don't know what's in them," Skipper said. He continued talking, but Gilligan was caught up on what he had just said.

Did he know about Gilligan's genie? _'Don't mess with strange bottles if you don't know what's in them,'_ he had said... What was that supposed to mean? Did Skipper see him open the bottle? Was he trying to warn him about the genie? Come to think of it, Gilligan had heard tales of genies before in which the genies weren't quite friendly. They would take all the wishes and turn them around. A man would wish to be famous, and then he would be famous as a wanted fugitive instead of as a movie star or president. Was his genie going to turn his wishes around too?

Gilligan's thoughts were brought back when he felt the thud of Skipper's hat hitting him over the head again."Are you even listening, Gilligan?" Skipper complained.

"Yeah," Gilligan lied, "sure. Don't open the Professor's bottles, right?"

Skipper shook his head in disapproval, "just be careful when you visit him. The medicines he creates are potent and could possibly be deadly in the wrong dose."

Gilligan nodded, "I'll be careful," he promised, smiling.

"Alright," Skipper smiled back, "why don't you have the professor look at your eye before dinner. Just in case."

Gilligan nodded. He was glad Skipper had suggested that. The professor might know something about genies. He was a very smart man. Surely he'd have advice for Gilligan, even if Gilligan couldn't quite tell him that the genie was anything more than hypothetical. He waved goodbye to Skipper and made his way up to the professor's secluded hut...

**xxxxxx**

**_he he he... I love this show... Dost thou wanteth to leaveth a review? Thine reviews art appreciated._  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** _Thank you for reviewing, if you reviewed. If you did not review, thanks for nothing. (but thank you for reading though...) Here's the next chapter. I hope you like it. _

_Here you go:  
_

**xxxxxx**

Knock knock knock. Gilligan banged on the bamboo door of the Professor's hut.

"Come in," he heard the Professor call out. Considering how small the hut was, the Professor seemed somewhat far away.

Gilligan opened the door and walked cautiously inside, looking around the small room to see what the Professor was up to. Ginger sat on a chair in the corner. She looked up at him and smiled. Her eyes looked a little sleepy and unfocused, "Hello Gilligan," she said in her overly seductive voice.

Gilligan smiled uncomfortably. Did she want something? Why was she talking to him like that? He wished she would talk to him in the manner that she talked to Mary Ann and Mrs. Howell. He really didn't like all the womanly sexy tricks she always tried to pull on the men. He just wasn't interested in such things, "Hi," he managed to squeak, "Um... whatcha guys doing?"

"Ginger was just leaving," the Professor said, seeming to appear from nowhere. In reality, he had probably just been in the other room. His cabin had two rooms, one that served as his bedroom, and one that served as a laboratory of sorts, and also as a doctor's office, dentist office, or any other such thing any of the castaways may have a need for. Gilligan figured maybe Ginger had been feeling sick, so she had come here to get medicine. She did look a little out of it, after all.

The Professor helped her out of the chair and gently pushed her in the direction of the door. Ginger swaggered toward the door, but stopped next to Gilligan. She grabbed his face with both hands and looked worried, "Oh, Gilligan... what happened?" She swayed a bit. Gilligan furrowed his brow. She couldn't be drunk, could she? Maybe she was just really tired. She did look tired after all.

"Oh, it's nothing Ginger," Gilligan assured her, "don't worry about me."

Ginger shrugged and stumbled toward the door, "See you around, Professor, Gilligan," she said seductively.

Gilligan sighed and turned to see the Professor, "I think she might be sick," he noted, "I hope she's feeling better soon."

"I'm sure she's feeling just perfect right about now," the Professor grinned as though he had made a witty joke. He put his hands on Gilligan's shoulders and led him to the chair Ginger had occupied moments before, "sit down," he instructed. Gilligan complied. Sitting in the chair, he looked up at the Professor. He was about to ask him about genies, but the Professor spoke first, "That eye looks a bit painful... Mind if I ask what happened?"

"Oh yeah..." Gilligan began, "that's why I'm here. Skipper wanted you to have a look at it."

"Did he now?" the Professor shook his head in disapproval, "What did you do to make him mad this time? That guy really needs to learn to be a little more patient. I mean, even I sometimes feel like punching you, but I don't ever do it. The man needs to learn a little restraint... You're his best friend, his so called 'little buddy,' and still, for every little thing, he goes off... I swear, sometimes I think he'd learn a thing or two if we slapped him around for all the mistakes he makes."

Gilligan frowned, "what are you talking about? Skipper didn't do this," he gestured toward his bruise, "he just saw it and said I should ask you to look at it." Gilligan knew the Professor probably wouldn't believe him. The Skipper did hit him and yell at him all the time. He almost never actually left a mark though. It was usually relatively harmless, physically anyway. The Skipper's remarks did tend to make Gilligan feel very bad about himself now and again. Of course, he would usually just shrug off anything negative Skipper said to him. It would do no good to become critical of himself.

"Whatever you say, Gilligan," The Professor didn't look convinced, "it's not my problem, I guess." He came up close to Gilligan and looked at the bruise under his eye. He poked it with his finger, making Gilligan wince, "it doesn't look too bad," he commented.

"Good," Gilligan smiled, "Skipper said so too. I was afraid I'd look like I had been run over by a boulder and that everyone would think I looked like an ugly monster."

"No," The Professor said, "you just look like a kid who got punched in the eye."

"I really didn't get punched though," Gilligan persisted.

The Professor shook his head, "Like I said, it's not my problem. It's none of my business how you and the Skipper settle your differences." Gilligan opened his mouth to protest, to reiterate that the bruise was a product of an accident and not from the Skipper's rage, but the Professor put his hand over Gilligan's mouth to silence him. "Since I've got you here," the Professor changed the subject, "could you do me a favor?"

Gilligan tried to speak, but the Professor's hand still covered his mouth, so he shook his head 'yes,' until the Professor moved his hand. Then he added "sure; What is it?"

"I've been working on this new medicine, but I'm still not quite sure I've got it right. I need someone to try it out," the Professor told him, walking toward a table and then coming back with a small bottle of blue liquid.

Gilligan frowned, "I don't know..." he hesitated, "Skipper told me not eat anything when I visit you."

"Well, he'll never know," The Professor assured him, pushing the bottle toward him, "it's just a small dose."

Gilligan didn't really feel comfortable about this. He was always told to never take medicine unless he was sick. He didn't feel sick. His eye hurt, yes, but he had a feeling that this medicine wasn't just for something as simple as that.

"It won't harm you," The Professor assured him, "You really have nothing to worry about, and if The Skipper gives you any trouble about it, I'll take care of it. Just drink this little bit here. I just need to make sure I've gotten the correct ingredients. Worst case scenario, it won't do anything at all."

"But I don't want it to do anything at all," Gilligan squeaked, feeling very nervous, "what's it supposed to do if you did mix it the right way? What is it supposed to do if you have all the right ingredients in there?"

The Professor pushed the bottle closer, so that the top was touching Gilligan's lips, "just drink it."

Gilligan frowned. He really didn't want to. He knew the Professor was capable of making some pretty crazy drugs. He didn't want to drink anything the Professor had made unless he had a reason to, like an injury that required painful surgery or something of the sort. He wasn't the kind of person who took medicine just to see what it would do, "can't you take it?" he asked, "why does it have to be me?"

"I need to be able to observe it's affect on you," the Professor explained, "if I took it, I wouldn't be able to take notes on what it was doing to me. I'd be out of my ordinary state of mind and would therefore be unable to properly assess the situation." he pushed the bottle at Gilligan again, "come on, Gilligan," he pleaded, "what if someone needs this medicine later and I cannot give it to them because you wouldn't try it out first? Wouldn't you feel guilty?"

Gilligan sighed, "I guess I'll take one for the team," he finally agreed, managing a slight smile. It seemed he was always taking one for the team, putting himself in danger for the benefit of the others... Out of everyone there, he must have been the very least favourite, because he always seemed to be the one whose life was risked for the good of the group. They were always volunteering him to do anything and everything unpleasant. He closed his eyes and in one swift motion tipped the bottle up and swallowed it's contents.

Immediately after taking the drug, he felt nothing. He sat on the chair and looked at the Professor who looked back at him with a scrutinizing eye. Then Gilligan remembered why he had really come to the Professor's hut. He had meant to ask him about the genie, whether or not the genie would twist his wishes around and make a seemingly good wish backfire into something he'd surely regret.

"Professor, what do you know about genies?" Gilligan asked.

"They are mythical creatures from stories. Genies are said to grant wishes to whomever finds the lamp in which the genie resides. Most of the time I believe the story goes that three wishes are granted," The Professor told him.

Gilligan nodded. So far that sounded exactly like his genie, "But, are they good, or bad? I mean, would a genie try to trick you into wishing for something that isn't really what you wanted? Would he take your wish and turn it around on you?"

The Professor narrowed his eyes and wrote something down on a pad of paper. Gilligan leaned forward, trying to see what he was writing. Moving in such a way made him a bit dizzy. He almost fell out of the chair, but he caught himself. He leaned back, afraid to move much. He didn't want to fall. The professor wrote something else, but Gilligan didn't bother trying to see it this time.

The Professor seemed to have ignored his question, "So," Gilligan began again, "I mean..." he was having trouble finding the words for what he was trying to say, "if you had a genie... and... um... you wished for... You wished for something... and the genie gave you the wish, but it was bad... Sort of like if you wished for something, and it came true, but something bad came along with it..." The Professor looked at him as though he was an idiot, "What I'm trying to say is... are genies really like that?"

The Professor wrote down more on his pad of paper, then looked up at Gilligan, who couldn't quite see straight anymore. The Professor seemed to be moving, almost vibrating. The entire hut did. And there was a faint humming sound. Gilligan looked around, trying to discover the source of the sound. Oh... It was The Professor. He had been talking, "... because they don't exist," Gilligan heard the very end of whatever the Professor had been saying.

Gilligan felt like he was moving. He didn't think he was though, "Um..." he started, "but what if..." he forgot what he had been planning on asking.

"How do you feel, Gilligan?" the Professor asked. He was closer now, and had his hands on Gilligan's shoulders. He looked straight into Gilligan's eyes.

Gilligan stared back at him, wondering how he had gotten so close without Gilligan even noticing, "dizzy," he answered, "and confused..." He felt really tired too. But he didn't think he had enough energy to include that in his list of symptoms. Gilligan closed his heavy eyelids. He figured he should probably take a nap. He could tell the Professor how he felt tomorrow. And then he could go visit his genie again... if he even existed. The Professor seemed to think he did not. Maybe the genie didn't exist after all. Maybe nothing did. Gilligan couldn't really be sure of anything right now...

**xxxxxx**

_**I hope you liked this chapter. That Professor is into some crazy shit! **_**_ I hope this chapter didn't offend anyone... But geeze... This is the internet... If you've made it this far, surely you aren't easily offended... _**

**_Just remember, this is supposed to be funny... No Gilligans were harmed in the making of this chapter._**

**_Review, por favor.  
_**


	4. Chapter 4

_**This chapter is longer than the others. Hopefully it doesn't drone on and on too much... I didn't even mean for it to be longer... It just happened.**_

**_Thank you for reviewing and/or reading. I hope you enjoy this next chapter:_  
**

**xxxxxx**

Gilligan woke up not knowing where he was or what time it was. All he knew was that he was lying in a hammock somewhere, and people were arguing nearby. He kept his eyes closed and listened, just in case they were arguing about something stupid he had done, just in case they were angry with him. As long as he kept his eyes shut, no one could yell at him, because they'd think he was still asleep.

Gilligan's ears tapped into the conversation mid-sentence, just as one's ears tend to do when they wake up in a room where two or more people are having an on-going conversation. The first voice he heard was Skipper's, "...irresponsible!"

"How else am I supposed to test these things?" this was the Professor's voice, "someone had to be the first to try it. It couldn't be Mr. or Mrs. Howell. They are elderly. The drug could have killed them. And I wouldn't want to test it on one of the women. That would be barbaric."

"But testing it out on my little buddy _isn't_ barbaric?" Skipper yelled.

"Who else would I test it on?" The Professor repeated, "you? It would have required triple the dosage!"

Gilligan could hear Skipper sigh loudly. He could tell Skipper was getting rather angry. If he had been in the Professor's place right now, he'd run for it. Gilligan never witnessed Skipper hit anyone besides him though. He'd yell, but never actually hit. The Professor would probably be fine.

"Besides, how is it that you suddenly care so much for the kid's well-being?" The Professor challenged.

"Of course I care about him!" Skipper yelled, "he's my best friend, my little buddy. Sure, I get into it with him sometimes when he isn't paying attention or is careless and messes things up, but you know I always look out for him when worst comes to worst."

"Friends don't hit each other, Skipper. You'd think a grown man would know that," The Professor calmly replied, "I believe I learned that in primary school."

"Listen here," The Skipper was sounding more and more angry by the minute, "a smack with a cap hurts just for a minute, and barely hurts in the first place. Giving someone an exotic drug with questionable results could have horrible consequences. You know that... You're a Professor. What you've done is far worse than anything I ever do. At least I know hitting him with my cap won't do any serious damage."

"I admit that what I did wasn't quite the most responsible thing to do, but I'm still surprised you even care. We both know that you do more than smack him with your cap every now and then... Until you stop treating your friend the way you do, you can't really claim that you're any better than I am. I'll hear nothing more of it," Gilligan heard the Professor walk toward the door. He then heard the hut's door open and then slam shut.

"No good, worthless drug-addict," Skipper mumbled under his breath, "how dare he give my little buddy drugs?"

Gilligan kept his eyes closed. He could tell it was daytime, because he could see a tint of light through his eye-lids, which wouldn't have been there at night. That meant either he hadn't been asleep for long at all (because there was at least an hour or two of daylight left when he had returned to camp) or that he had slept through the entire night, which was very possible. The light turned to shadow as Gilligan heard Skipper walk over to him. He felt Skipper place his hand over Gilligan's forehead, probably feeling if he had a fever. Gilligan didn't think he did though. He actually felt alright now. Of course his eyes were closed and he wasn't moving. For all he knew, opening his eyes and walking around could prove disastrous...

"My poor little buddy," Skipper said, his voice sounding uncharacteristically emotional, "the Professor had no right to give you that drug... I told you not to eat anything while you were over there..."

Gilligan wanted to respond, to say that the Professor made him feel guilty about not taking it, to say that someone needed to test it out just in case someone else needed it in the future... but he knew the Skipper was probably angry with him for taking the medicine when he had been warned against it. He knew Skipper would probably yell at him if he spoke up, so he kept his eyes closed and continued to fake sleep.

"I know I don't always treat you right," Skipper continued, "and I'm sorry. I guess my temper just gets the best of me. I don't even think about it most of the time... You just mess everything up so often and it's frustrating... I really don't mean to hurt you, just to teach you to do better in the future... Sometimes I just forget that you're only a little guy and that I should be more gentle with you."

Gilligan wondered if Skipper would be apologizing if he knew Gilligan wasn't really asleep. Probably not. Skipper would probably smack Gilligan in the head if he knew his little buddy had been listening the whole time.

"Well, little buddy," Skipper sighed and put his hand on Gilligan's shoulder, "I guess I'll let you get some rest. I hope you feel better when you wake up."

He heard Skipper's footsteps exit the cabin and heard the door close, much more gently than when the Professor had left a moment before. Gilligan felt happy that Skipper had apologized. He had apologized many times before though. He had no hope that Skipper would never yell or hit him again. That was just who the Skipper was. He was quick to anger, and Gilligan knew that. He liked Skipper though, despite his temper. Besides, the smacks with the hat didn't really hurt too bad. And Gilligan really did mess up all the time. He sort of deserved it, right?

He didn't really care about that right now. At the moment, his biggest desire was to sneak away from camp and go back to see his genie. He still hadn't thought of a wish, but he knew he could think of something. And if the genie turned it all around, he'd use his second wish to un-do the first one. Everything would work out great.

So Gilligan opened his eyes. Sure enough, he had been in his own hut this whole time. He had thought so, but hadn't been sure. Hammocks don't come in many varieties, so it wasn't as though he would recognize the feel of his own hammock over anyone else's.

He cautiously got out of the hammock and strolled over to the window. Sure enough, he had recovered from the drug the Professor had given him. That meant he had probably slept through the entire night. He was able to walk straight and see straight. He smiled. The drug was harmless after all... at least, after it wore off... He peered out the window. No one was there. It was just a short distance he'd have to run in order to be hidden by the trees. He climbed out the window and ran as quietly as possible toward the jungle. Within a few seconds he was out of sight and on his way to his secret cave.

The paths he took to get to the cave were unmarked, but he knew them by heart. Even before he had found the gorgeous bottle, he had stashed other things there, like the tastiest wild strawberries he had ever found, the prettiest shells from the beach, and other random bits, such as tribal masks and jewelry he had found and had not wanted the girls to try to lay claim to.

It didn't take long fro him to reach the cave. He crawled into the main chamber, and then squeezed into the smaller back chamber, where all of his treasures were hidden. The bottle shined brilliantly in the dark cave, almost enough to provide a light source. Gilligan wondered if it would be a good nightlight back in their hut. He couldn't bring it back though. He would surely not even be the one to end up possessing it if the others saw it.

This time Gilligan pointed the bottle away from his face as he popped the cork. The cork flew out, slamming against the wall of the cave. Gilligan was glad he had pointed it away from himself. Surely it would have crashed into his face and given him another bruise, or worsened the one he already had... Just as before, lights and colours flooded the small space of the cave, and the genie appeared. Gilligan still wasn't sure how the massive man managed to fit into the tiny cave.

"Greetings again, lad," the genie smiled, "have you thought of any or all of your wishes?"

"Oh... well, I didn't really have much time to think," Gilligan admitted, "I went back to camp, and Skipper was worried about my eye. He made me show the Professor, who thought Skipper had done it, and then the Professor gave me this weird drug that made everything spin, and I fell alseep. Skipper and the Professor argued about it while I was asleep, except I was awake and just pretending, so then they left and I sneaked out of the hut and came here. That's all that happened since I saw you last! See? I had no time at all to think of any wishes! I hope you're not mad that I'm taking too long in thinking of what to wish for..."

The genie looked amused, "that was quite a story. Don't worry about time. Time is nothing to me. You can take however long you need to think of your wishes."

"Do you mind if I think for a minute? I could probably come up with a wish today if I just have time to think..." Gilligan suggested.

"Of course. I'll be right here when you need me," the genie replied, disappearing back into the bottle.

Gilligan stared at the bottle for a moment. He wondered how the genie could do that. It was amazing he fit into the cave, let alone into a tiny bottle. _'I wish I could do that,' _he thought. His eyes opened wide as he looked around, paranoid... that didn't count, did it? The genie was still in the bottle. Gilligan sighed with relief. He was glad that just thinking of a wish wouldn't qualify as one of his three wishes. Being able to squeeze into a bottle would be cool, but it wasn't a very practical wish.

He thought to himself some more. What was amiss in his life that he could wish to fix? The Professor and Skipper were arguing... He didn't like that, but they'd probably work it out on their own; there would be no point in wasting a wish on something that would resolve itself. Did he miss anything that wasn't on the island? His mother... but she would probably feel like she didn't belong with the seven of them since they had grown so close. She would feel out of place, and Gilligan didn't want to do that to her. He missed french fries, and milkshakes, but that wasn't a very good wish... If the others found out he'd wished for those things, they would be furious with him for wasting his wishes on things that weren't really very important. He missed his dog, Willy. Willy had been his dog when he was just a little boy. He had died years ago, but maybe he could wish for him to be alive and well and here on the island... Would that pose any issue? The others didn't know about Willy. Gilligan could claim the dog just showed up, that he was a dog native to the island, or swam into the lagoon from who knows where. And he was a great dog too. He'd probably make everyone happy.

Gilligan smiled. That seemed like the best wish he could possibly wish for. Willy was such a wonderful friend. It would be wonderful to have him back again. He popped the bottle back open and waited for the genie to emerge.

"Have you thought of anything?" the genie questioned.

Gilligan nodded, still smiling. He hoped the genie was legitimate and wouldn't try to trick him. His wish didn't seem mean-spirited or selfish like a lot of wishes in stories were. He thought he would probably cry if the genie turned it around on him now, since he had such high hopes for seeing his beloved dog once more.

"What'll it be?" the genie asked.

"When I was a little boy I had this wonderful dog named Willy. He was the greatest friend in the world, but it was so long ago, that he got old and died since then... I wish that Willy was alive and well, and was here on the island... in here, in the cave... And that he was young and healthy and would live exactly as long as I do, so neither of us will ever have to be sad that the other one died," Gilligan explained, "did that make sense?"

"You want your dog Willy to be here, young and fit and to live just as long as you do," the genie restated.

"Yes," Gilligan agreed, "but don't make us die really soon or anything," he added. "I mean, I want us to die at the same time, but I want that to be a long time from now... Don't make it where we die at the same time, but it's tomorrow or something...I want him to have a long life, like me... I don't want to have a short life like him... Please don't trick me and turn my wish around..." Gilligan stammered. He was beginning to feel very worried. He couldn't wish to un-do the wish if he was dead... So if the genie turned this one around, it would all be over for him...

"I see what you mean," the genie smiled kindly, "and I'm not here to trick you. Genies rarely trick their masters. Their masters can usually trick themselves well enough. When someone gets three limitless wishes, they often turn greedy and irrational. Their own wishes are what turns their lives to shambles. You seem to have pure intentions. I'm sure your wishes will turn out just as you intend. I have no desire to twist anything around. I'll do my best to get your wish exactly as you intended."

"Okay," Gilligan found that he was smiling again, "good."

"Ready?" the genie asked before granting the wish. Gilligan nodded. "Very well. It is done."

The genie had made no move, nod, hand gesture, or blink, no magical lights or sparkles swirled around... At first, Gilligan was certain that the genie had lied, that he hadn't granted the wish after all, or maybe that he wasn't even a real genie. But he had only a few seconds for these doubts to invade his mind when suddenly he felt the furry paws of his former best pal as the little dog jumped up onto him and began licking his face.

Gilligan giggled with joy. He couldn't believe his good luck. This was wonderful! Willy was back! And he was just as loving as ever. Gilligan hugged the little dog and looked up at the genie, "thank you so much Genie!" he exclaimed, "I think this is the best wish I could have made!"

"I'm pleased that you've wished for something that is so important to you," the genie smiled, "it's good to see how happy the dog makes you. Will you be making another wish now?"

Gilligan shook his head, "no; not yet" he said, "I've got everything I need for the moment. You can go back into your bottle if you want. You don't have to if you don't want to though... I don't want to make you go into that little bottle if you'd rather not."

"Not a problem at all," the genie replied, "the bottle is my home and I don't mind one bit being confined to it."

Gilligan hugged the genie, "Thank you so much for bringing Willy to me."

The genie nodded and disappeared back into the bottle.

Gilligan crawled out of the cave, with Willy trailing behind him, "You'll love the island, Willy," Gilligan told the dog, "there's lots of bananas. I know you like bananas. And there's water to play in, lots of places to dig. Mr. Howell knows how to make golf balls out of fruit seeds. We can probably make you a ball to play with!"

As Gilligan reached the exit of the cave he was greeted with the site of Mary Ann's shoes. Gilligan brought himself to his feet. As it turned out, it was not just Mary Ann's shoes at the entrance of the cave, but all of Mary Ann.

"Um," Gilligan began, "hi, Mary Ann." he said, smiling and hoping she wasn't suspicious.

"Gilligan!" she exclaimed, "what just happened in there! I saw you sneaking away, so I followed you... I wanted to make sure you were alright after last night. I didn't go into the cave, because I didn't want you to know I had followed... but... where did the dog come from? And who were you talking to in there?"

Gilligan wasn't sure what to say. Maybe he could just tell her the truth... Mary Ann knew how to keep a secret, right?

**xxxxxx**

_**I have a feeling there's going to be a lot of typos in this. I proof-read it, but I kept spacing out... And I'm not too good with proof-reading to begin with... So... apologies if my spelling and grammar are a monstrosity. **_

**_Review, please. I might not be updating for a while... Lotsa skool is about to crush my spirit._  
**


	5. Chapter 5

**_Thank you for reading. Here's the next chapter. Chapter 5 maybe._**

**xxxxxx**

_Previously, on_ Gilligan in a Bottle:

_Gilligan crawled out of the cave, with Willy trailing behind him, "You'll love the island, Willy," Gilligan told the dog, "there's lots of bananas. I know you like bananas. And there's water to play in, lots of places to dig. Mr. Howell knows how to make golf balls out of fruit seeds. We can probably make you a ball to play with!"_

_As Gilligan reached the exit of the cave he was greeted with the site of Mary Ann's shoes. Gilligan brought himself to his feet. As it turned out, it was not just Mary Ann's shoes at the entrance of the cave, but all of Mary Ann._

_"Um," Gilligan began, "hi, Mary Ann." he said, smiling and hoping she wasn't suspicious._

_"Gilligan!" she exclaimed, "what just happened in there! I saw you sneaking away, so I followed you... I wanted to make sure you were alright after last night. I didn't go into the cave, because I didn't want you to know I had followed... but... where did the dog come from? And who were you talking to in there?"_

_Gilligan wasn't sure what to say. Maybe he could just tell her the truth... Mary Ann knew how to keep a secret, right?_

**xxxxxx**

"Well..." Mary Ann was waiting for an answer, "what's going on? Are you alright?" she looked concerned as she stepped forward and placed her hand on Gilligan's forehead. Everyone had been doing that lately, "were you talking to yourself in there? Do you still feel sick from what the Professor gave you?"

Gilligan gently swatted away Mary Ann's hand, "I'm fine," he assured her, "really. I can see straight and walk straight again. The stuff the Professor gave me wore off. I'm all better now," he grinned, "and look, Willy's here!"

Mary Ann raised her eyebrows in confusion.

Gilligan frowned, "the dog... his name is Willy."

"Oh," she said, "well, was it him you were talking to then? I guess that's reasonable, but where did he come from?"

Gilligan thought about this. Should he pretend that he had been talking to Willy instead of the genie? Would Mary Ann believe him if he told her the dog had just appeared from the lagoon or had been a wild dog living on the island this whole time? He kind of wanted to share his secret with someone, and Mary Ann seemed to be the best candidate. She probably wouldn't tell anyone or try to guilt-trip him into spending his wishes on things he didn't really want.

"Mary Ann, can you keep a secret?" Gilligan whispered, leaning in closer so no one else could hear.

"Sure," Mary Ann looked intrigued now. She leaned closer to Gilligan as well, until their foreheads were almost touching.

Gilligan looked from side to side to ensure no one else was around, "a while ago, I found this really cool bottle," he began, "I've had it hidden in the back of this cave here for a long time. No one else can fit into the smaller chamber in the back... Well, you might be able to, but bigger people like the Skipper and the Professor couldn't... so I hid it there so no one else could steal it... You can't tell anyone about my secret cave."

Mary Ann frowned, "is that it? That's the secret?" She looked disappointed.

Gilligan shook his head, "not even close," he was getting excited, "yesterday I decided to open the bottle to see what was inside... and you'll never guess what was in there!" Mary Ann looked like she was about to guess something, but Gilligan didn't give her time to, "a genie!" he yelled. He looked around nervously, hoping no one had heard his exclamation and then repeated in a whisper, "a genie..."

"A genie?" Mary Ann looked skeptical, "as in a magic man who lives in a lamp and grants wishes?"

Gilligan nodded, "you got it, except my genie was in a bottle, not a lamp," he grinned, "and Willy was my first wish," he gestured toward the little dog, "I tried to think of something that I really missed here on the island, and that other people would enjoy too. Willy was my dog a long time ago when I was a little boy."

"A long time ago?" Mary Ann grinned, "you're still a little boy."

Gilligan smiled, ignoring what was either an insult or a compliment... he wasn't sure which, "well, he was always the greatest dog, and I knew he and I could have a lot of fun here on the island together, so I wished for him to be here. And I bet you and the others will enjoy his company too. I still need to think of my second two wishes."

"Are you sure you're alright?" Mary Ann asked.

"You don't believe me?" Gilligan frowned, "I can show you. Come on," he crawled into the cave, with Mary Ann following right behind him. They made their way into the small chamber in the back. Sure enough, Mary Ann was small enough to squeeze into the chamber as well. Gilligan picked the bottle up off the ground and showed her, "see? Isn't it pretty?"

"Well, sure," Mary Ann agreed, "it's very beautiful, but it's still just a bottle... Go on, open it up. If there's really a genie inside, I want to see it." Gilligan had a feeling she was just humoring him. She didn't seem to actually believe him just yet. She would though... She's have to believe it when she saw it...

Gilligan did as Mary Ann asked and began to loosen the cork, "watch out for the cork," he warned her, "it hit me right in the eye the first time I opened it. That's where this big bruise came from," he pointed toward his bruised cheek bone as he said this, then pointed the bottle away from both of them and popped the cork out.

"Professor said Skipper did that to you," Mary Ann looked sad now.

"Aww... come on," Gilligan tried to cheer her up, "everyone's always so worried about that... The Professor doesn't know what he's talking about. I'm the one with the bruise... I know how I got it. It was the cork. I swear. The genie will back up my story. Here he comes!" Just as the times before, lights and sparkles flew and the genie appeared. Gilligan smiled as wide as his face would allow.

Mary Ann simply looked at Gilligan, then looked at the genie, and back at Gilligan, "are you playing make-believe?" she asked.

Gilligan frowned. Could she not see him? She was looking right at the genie, yet she seemed unimpressed... And she thought he was playing make-believe? That was sort of offensive... Sure, Gilligan loved to run around and play, but he didn't play make-believe. The world he lived in was exciting enough that he didn't even have to bother making up fake things. Was it not enough that he had an entire tropical island to explore and a magical genie with whom to converse and wish for things from? Why would he play make-believe?

"Mary Ann... he's right there," Gilligan pointed to the genie.

Mary Ann shrugged, "I was never good at playing make-believe. It's just so hard to imagine something that isn't there. I guess that's why I'd never make it as an actress."

Gilligan shook his head, "no! I'm not making this up!" he turned to the genie, "Genie, say something! Tell her about the cork hitting my eye! Tell her about me wishing for Willy, and about how you live in a tiny bottle, but you don't mind it..."

"I'm sorry," the genie said, looking sincerely apologetic, "only my master can see me, that is, only the person who found the bottle and who owns the current set of wishes can see me... That's you, and only you. I apologize... but that's just the way it is."

"Gilligan," Mary Ann looked worried again as she grasped Gilligan's arm and pulled him along to leave the cave, "I think we should get you back home."

Gilligan looked into her eyes. She truly did look concerned for him, "you can see Willy though, right?" he asked. She nodded. What if he really was going crazy? What if the genie really was just a figment of his imagination? Mary Ann had commented on Willy though, and she said she could see him... How could Willy have gotten here without the help of the genie? But what if Gilligan was just imagining that she had said that she could see Willy. What if the Professor's drug was still affecting him?

"Genie?" Gilligan looked at the genie, "are you real?"

The genie nodded, "perhaps it would be best to not talk about me to your friends anymore," he suggested, "just come back here later when you're friends are less worried about you to make your next two wishes. She has a reason to be concerned. She cannot see me, so you appear to be imagining me... I can only assure you I'm real," the genie told him.

Gilligan breathed in and nodded. The genie had to be real. The whole thing was too good to _not_ be true... Sort of like things that are too good to be true, only the opposite. Willy was really truly here. Gilligan could feel his fur and his wet nose. He could smell his doggie smell and hear his doggie sounds. This was real. He supposed, for now, he would go back with Mary Ann, assure her that he was only playing, or blame it on the Professor's drug, and then later go back to the cave to meet with the genie again.

Gilligan allowed Mary Ann to lead him out of the cave. Willy followed them, wagging his tail. Willy as a great tail-wagger. His tail was moving nearly constantly.

"I was just joking, Mary Ann," Gilligan lied, grinning as convincingly as possible, "I really had you fooled, huh?"

Mary Ann frowned and looked at him with a critical eye, as though she was judging his honesty.

"Aw, come on," Gilligan assured her, "you know I'm just a goofy kid who makes stuff up all the time. I found the dog on the island. I really don't know where he came from... I just made up the genie story for fun. I'm sorry if I worried you... I was just trying to liven things up around here. Wouldn't it be neat if there really was a genie?" Gilligan could sense that he was rambling, but he couldn't stop. Mary Ann wasn't saying anything, and Gilligan feared that the minute he stopped talking, she would decide he really had been serious and had been hallucinating genies all day, "What do you think you'd wish for Mary Ann? If there really was a genie? If you found one, I mean?" he waited a few seconds, "I know I'd probably wish for ice cream. Remember that one time - "

"Gilligan!" Mary Ann cut him off, "you shouldn't worry people like that!" she was pouting, "I kept asking you if you were playing and you kept saying you weren't. I was worried that the Professor had given you something that was really making you sick. I was scared that you were seeing things that weren't there! You shouldn't lie to people when they are genuinely worried about you."

Gilligan frowned. He really hadn't meant to worry her. He had every reason to believe that she'd be able to see the genie too. He thought showing her the genie would impress her, not make her concerned, "I said I'm sorry," Gilligan repeated, looking down at his shoes.

"Aww," Mary Ann put her fingers on his chin and raised his face back up so she could look into his eyes, "it's alright, Gilligan. I'm sorry for yelling. I know you didn't mean any harm. How about we go back to camp, hm? I know the others are probably worried about you."

"They are?" Gilligan asked, "what for?"

"Well, they'll probably go in to check on you and you won't be there! You were stumbling and saying weird things last night and then you passed out in the Professor's hut. You slept through the whole night and just disappeared in the morning. I'm sure someone has gone in to check on you by now, and everyone is probably worried that you might have wandered off while you still weren't thinking straight. They'll all be very glad to know you've just been running around on the island playing."

Gilligan laughed a fake laugh. He hoped Mary Ann couldn't tell that his laugh wasn't sincere.

As he and Mary Ann made their way back toward camp, Gilligan had a lot to think about. He hoped he wasn't crazy. He hoped his genie was real. There were two wishes left to be made and Gilligan had some great ideas brewing in his mind. Not only that, but he was really starting to like the guy... It wasn't just the wishes that were magical, but the genie seemed to be a very nice person... or creature... or whatever a genie would be classified as. If Gilligan went to the cave later and found that the genie had been a figment of his imagination this whole time... he didn't know what he'd do. At this point, it would be like losing a friend.

**xxxxxx**

**_This chapter hasn't been very funny... I hope this story isn't getting too boring... And I know the Howell's haven't been in it at all... I'll try to work them in at least once eventually. I've included everyone else so far. ^_^ The Howell's are crazy old people who try to use monopoly money to buy respect and privilege on the island... so hopefully I can write them into a funny scene..._**

**_I guess Gilligan and Mary Ann are just both too nice to write a very exciting chapter... There's not much conflict between two really nice people. Maybe we'll get some Skipper action in the next chapter. That's always violent and exciting. Seriously... that guy... Even on the actual show, he's such a freaking douche.  
_**

**_Also: What kind of a dog is Willy?_**

**_If anyone is wondering, the answer to that question is up to you. I imagine him being like my dog, but you can imagine him however you want. I have written here that he is a "little dog," though, so he's probably not a German Shepard or anything big like that. I envision that he'll be sleeping in Gilligan's hammock with him, so he can't be too big._**

**_Review, please.  
_**


	6. Chapter 6

_Chapter Six is brought to you by,_**_ Homework Procrastination and Distractions Inc. _**_ "When you've got a lot of homework, lots of papers to write, do something completely worthless with your time instead! Keeping you from completing your homework since 1976."_

**_"I knew Homework Procrastination and Distractions Inc. was right for me. I have two ten page papers due on monday. What better way to spend my time than writing fanfiction about Gilligan's Island? Whenever I need to get some homework done, I think, what would Homework Procrastination and Distractions Inc. suggest I do? I just know they'd rather I write something like this than something related to school."_**_~MildlyInsane, Homework Procrastination and Distraction Inc. enthusiast since 1995._**_  
_**

**_Here you go:_**

**_xxxxxx_**

Gilligan was immediately ambushed by questions and accusations when he and Mary Ann entered the clearing that contained their huts.

"Gilligan! Where have you been?" Skipper yelled, "we were all worried about you! Why did you sneak off?"

"It wasn't very considerate of you to scare us all like that," Ginger added.

"Where did you find that dog?" the Skipper questioned, "haven't we told you not to bring wild animals into our camp?"

"It's clearly not wild," the Professor added, seeming to try to over-rule Skipper's remark, "it's obviously domesticated. However, that doesn't change the fact that it may be carrying diseases. Where _did_ you find the dog, Gilligan?"

Gilligan opened his mouth to answer, to answer with a lie of course, because telling the truth got him nowhere with Mary Ann... But before he could say anything, they were all complaining again.

"I went in to check on you and you weren't there!" Ginger said in a tone that was a bit pouty, "we all care about you, Gilligan, but sometimes you need to let us take care of you. We had all thought that you could be lost in the woods, disoriented..."

"You know better than that, Gilligan," Skipper added, "didn't you know we'd all worry if you just vanished? You had to have known..."

Gilligan frowned. He had sneaked away because he knew everyone would be fussing over him all day. It seemed every time he was sick or injured, no one would leave him alone. He knew from experience that if he wanted to be left alone, he'd have to be where no one could find him. If he had stayed in the hut, they would have been putting their hands on his forehead, looking into his eyes to see if he looked drugged, judging his speech and movements... He didn't really want everyone observing his every movement and breath. He knew he'd have no chance to go back to visit the genie if he didn't do it in secret.

"Oh, leave the poor boy alone," Mrs. Howell said next, "he's probably still experiencing the dreadful effects from whatever that awful mixture was that the Professor gave him. Can you blame him for being irresponsible at a time such as this? He'd have never wandered off if he was sober, I'm sure."

"Very right, my dear," Mr. Howell agreed, "the lad probably didn't even know he was doing anything wrong."

Mrs. Howell nodded, "he doesn't need all of this yelling."

"Indeed," Mr. Howell agreed, "what he needs is rehab, I'd say," he looked over to his wife, "did you hear that, Lovey? Rehab." he laughed, proud of his joke.

Mrs. Howell nodded, "You're quite right, dear."

"Gilligan," Mary Ann spoke to him now, "why don't you go with the Howell's for a little while? You can take Willy with you. How does that sound?" She smiled as though everything was okay, but Gilligan could tell she was up to something. She wanted to distract him so that she could talk to the others about him... so she could tell them that he was going crazy.

Sighing, Gilligan complied. What else could he do?

"Come along, dear boy," Mr. Howell said as he put his hand on Gilligan's shoulder and led him into his and Mrs. Howell's hut. Willy trailed along behind them. He was a very well behaved dog. He followed Gilligan all over the place, but he was also known to be independent. He could run around all over and always find his way back home. The entire Island would be a wonderful opportunity for Willy to do some exploring. Right now, however, Willy seemed to sense that Gilligan was in a bit of distress, so he stayed with his human friend as they all filed into the elderly couple's hut.

The Howell's hut was more fancy than Gilligan's, but was still made out of sticks, bamboo, and grass just like everyone else's. They led him inside and sat him down on Mr. Howell's bed. Gilligan really wanted to hear what Mary Ann was talking about to the others. He'd probably find out soon enough, because everyone on the island was very into gossiping. Sooner or later he'd overhear someone talking about him... It happened all the time. They actually discussed him rather a lot. It seemed they were always talking about Gilligan behind his back.

"Are you feeling better?" Mrs. Howell asked, "we were terribly worried when we noticed you had disappeared from your hammock."

"I'm feeling fine," Gilligan told her, "I was just playing on the island... just like always. I didn't know anyone was going to be worried when I left. Did the Professor figure out what he was doing about that medicine? I mean, does he know how to make it now?"

Mrs. Howell shrugged, "I don't concern myself with such things."

"No," Mr. Howell added, "A Howell doesn't need to know of medicines. Especially not ones made on a dirty old island. I've got all the medicines I need right here. Yes, I've got quite the medicine cabinet." He opened up a bamboo cabinet to show Gilligan. Sure enough, all of Mr. Howell's pill bottles were there. Gilligan wondered why he needed so many pills. Would Gilligan have to take hundreds of pills every day when he was an old man? He hoped not.

"That's a lot of pills," Gilligan said. He only said this because the Howells had grown silent. Mr. Howell looked at his medicine as though he was thinking very hard. Mrs. Howell simply sat back and looked at the bracelets on her wrists and the rings on her hands. They still weren't talking. Gilligan was about to say something else when Mr. Howell finally spoke.

"Egad, Lovey!" Mr Howell exclaimed, "The Professor must have stolen some of my pills! I'm certain I had at least five more bottles! And what's worse: he's using them to make horrible, useless medicines... I've seen Ginger around here... I know she's been taking something... And then Gilligan last night... It's one thing to steal another man's medicine, but then to give it away on the street... or rather, the beach... The nerve! "

"Oh, isn't it monstrous... What a despicable man; how could he?" Mrs. Howell was using strong words that might make someone believe she was very involved and effected by this bit of news, but her tone indicated that she was rather uninterested.

"Well, I won't just sit idly by and let him get away with it!" Mr. Howell added, "I'm going to get to the bottom of this!"

Gilligan watched as Mr. Howell stormed out of the hut. He looked at Mrs. Howell who had found a mirror somewhere and was examining her own reflection, "Mrs. Howell?" Gilligan asked. She didn't look up, but made some sort mumbling sound, so Gilligan continued, "Do you believe in genies?"

"Why? Have you found one?" her attention was finally drawn away from the mirror. She pulled some colorful paper out from under her grass-sruffed mattress, "I'll offer two hundred for it," she held out two monopoly bills worth one hundred fake dollars each.

"Mrs. Howell," Gilligan started, already smiling about the joke he was about to make, "I couldn't even buy Boardwalk with that."

Mrs. Howell didn't get his joke. No one ever got his jokes. Sometimes he thought Skipper might, because he would remark _'Very funny, Gilligan,'_ but every time he said that, he seemed more frustrated and annoyed than amused.

"Seven hundred," she offered, pulling out a crisp, golden, five hundred dollar monopoly bill to add to her previous offer.

Gilligan shook his head, "I haven't found a genie," he lied, "I was just asking if you believed in them."

"Oh," Mrs. Howell looked disappointed, "Of course I don't."

Gilligan was confused now, "You don't? Why were you offering to pay me for one then?"

"Well, it's one thing to believe in something, and it's another thing for something to actually exist. I could buy a genie that I didn't believe in as long as it exists, but I can't buy a genie that doesn't exist even if I do believe in it," She explained.

Gilligan nodded. He understood what she was saying.

She looked back in her mirror. Gilligan sighed and walked toward the door, looking back at her to see if she noticed him trying to leave. She was completely tuned out of the rest of the world. The mirror was her only concern at the moment.

So Gilligan quietly crept out of the hut and followed the sound of the muffled voices of his friends. The voices led him to the Professor's hut, where it seemed everyone except Gilligan and Mrs. Howell were having a rather heated discussion. Gilligan stood where no one could see him, but where he could still see them, and could hear their every word. He knew they would be talking about him. Maybe not yet, with Mr. Howell's complaint being a current issue, but soon...

"Then just give him the pills back so we can get on with it!" Ginger demanded.

"Mr. Howell," Mary Ann calmly stepped in, "can't we worry about this later? Do you need the pills back right now? Aren't you the slightest bit worried about Gilligan?"

"I have a feeling we wouldn't have to be worried about Gilligan if the Professor didn't have access to every known drug in existence, as well as some unknown drugs. I think most of our problems would be solved if we just took his crazy lab away," Skipper suggested.

"That's out of the question," The Professor retorted, walking toward a shelf and taking several bottles off of it. He roughly handed the pills over to Mr. Howell, "have your pills, but when you've been stung by a native XuXu wasp, or bitten by a Tinsque beetle and you need treatment, don't come crying to me."

"I'd never," Mr. Howell told him, "I'd go crying to my own medicine cabinet, thief!" He stormed out of the Professor's hut just as he had stormed out of his own.

Gilligan held his breath. He wasn't sure what to do. Would Mr. Howell remember that Gilligan was supposed to be staying in their hut? Would he come looking for him or tell the others that Gilligan had gone missing again? Should Gilligan just tell Mr. Howell that he was spying on the others? He didn't have much time to think about it. Mr. Howell stormed off toward his hut rather quickly, mumbling to himself the whole while.

"Stealing a man's pills, I mean, really..." He grumbled. Gilligan merely sat back and watched him go. He made it to his hut and never looked back.

Gilligan shrugged. It seemed the man had forgotten about him after all. That was good, in this instance anyway. He turned his attention back to the discussion going on inside the Professor's hut. The conversation had turned its focus back on Gilligan.

"He said he could see a genie!" Mary Ann explained, "I thought he was playing, but he seemed so convinced. He was talking to it any everything! Eventually he confessed that he had just been pretending, but I think he just didn't want me to be worried about him. I'm fairly certain that he really did think there was a genie there. I think the drug you gave him is still affecting him," She looked accusingly as the Professor.

"You may be correct," the Professor admitted, "he was talking about genies last night as well, shortly after I gave him the drug. With any luck, it will wear off. I think the most logical course of action would just be to keep an eye on him until he's acting normal again."

"You better hope he gets better quickly," Skipper said rather threateningly.

"No wonder poor Gilligan is creating an imaginary friend," Ginger cut in, "Who in his position wouldn't? He has to cope with all of this somehow. I've heard of children who come from abusive houses creating imaginary friends and even imaginary worlds."

"What are you implying?" Skipper turned toward her.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," Ginger frowned, "we all see how you treat poor Gilligan. I think he's creating a genie in his mind in order to escape the real world. He needs some positive role models. You're his closest friend, Skipper. He looks up to you... Maybe he's finally moving on to another role model. One who won't yell at him or hit him when he does something wrong... even if said role model doesn't really exist..."

"Ginger could be onto something," the Professor agreed, "there have been psychological studies that have shown - "

"That's it!" Skipper interrupted, "I'm tired of everyone accusing me of mistreating my little buddy! I know I'm a little rough sometimes. I can't help it! Gilligan is my first mate, and I'm used to ordering him around on the job. He knows I've got no intention to actually harm him! I'm just trying to set him straight, teach him right from wrong, teach him some responsibility. There's no way I'm damaging him psychologically! I don't want to hear another word of it!"

Mary Ann, always one to calm a situation down, stepped in now, "Let's all just relax and stop blaming each other for this, okay? We all know Gilligan is imaginative. Let's just wait this out and stay calm. If everyone treats him with respect and no one gives him questionable drugs, we should be able to work through this, right?"

The others nodded in agreement, but Gilligan could tell there was still a lot of tension among them. They looked as though they were about to part ways, so Gilligan dashed off as quickly as he could back to the Howell's hut. He opened the door, slid inside, and closed it quickly and quietly behind him.

"Oh, Gilligan, lad," Mr. Howell smiled at him, "Where have you been? I thought you were visiting with us; I came back and you had gone."

"Um," Gilligan wasn't sure what to say, "I had to pee?" he finally said, not looking or sounding sure of this answer.

"Very well," Mr. Howell didn't seem to notice his uncertainty, "got my pills back," he added, gesturing toward the overflowing medicine cabinet, "I think I may have gotten back even more than he stole in the first place. Don't know how it happened..."

Just then, Skipper opened the hut's door. Gilligan had been leaning against it still, so when Skipper opened it, Gilligan fell backwards. He flailed his arms, trying to stay standing upright, but as usual, he failed in his attempt to keep his balance, and stumbled back, bumping right into the Skipper.

Gilligan turned around and looked up and his fuming friend. His eyes grew wide and he held his breath as he looked at the Skipper. Gilligan collided with the man several times a day, and usually Skipper clobbered him with his hat for it. He could see a flash of anger and frustration shoot through the Skipper's eyes and could see his hands flex into fists and then go back to normal. Skipper forced a smile, "There you are, little buddy!" he exclaimed, clearing masking the anger he had felt when Gilligan had bumped into him.

Gilligan laughed nervously, wondering what Skipper was doing. He would probably hit him with the hat twice later to make up for not hitting him now, "hi, Skipper," he said, "I was just planning on going back to the hut to relax... unless you want me to help collect firewood or something," he added, not wanting to appear lazy. Skipper always made Gilligan do all the work. He didn't mind too much though. Collecting resources was a good way to explore the island on his own without question from the others. It was impractical to make Gilligan be in charge of collecting firewood however, because he couldn't carry the biggest logs. That's why their fires were only made of smaller logs. The fires would last longer if Skipper would help out with retrieving bigger logs every now and then.

"Don't worry about it," Skipper smiled, "why don't you just take today off," he suggested.

Gilligan smiled, "Gosh, thanks Skipper," he said. Skipper hardly ever let him take an entire day off from working. Gilligan only ever got to have a whole day off if he was sick. Oh yeah... That's probably why he got the day off now. Skipper thought he was sick from the Professor's drug. Gilligan shrugged. If they thought he was crazy, he guessed it wouldn't do any harm. He'd get to relax from having to work for a little while. Then he could claim the drug wore off and he could keep the genie a secret from now on. Everything would work out perfectly now... He hoped so anyway.

**_xxxxxx_**

**_I hope I'm not losing my creativity. If this story is starting to suck, tell me. I'd rather know that I need to make changes than keep writing stuff that's awful..._**

**_I'm thinking next chapter will be better. I've got a plan for it already. Planning ahead one chapter in advance is pretty impressive. For me, anyway.  
_**


	7. Chapter 7

**Heeeeeeey... this is my longest chapter yet.  
**

**Hope you like it: (I'm totally only talking to one person, because I don't think anyone else is reading my updates) ^_^  
**

**xxxxxx**

Gilligan sighed as he flopped onto his hammock. As soon as Gilligan was comfortably situated, Willy jumped up to join him. Gilligan patted the little dog's head and looked into his eyes, "I'm glad you're here, Willy," Gilligan told him. Willy probably would have said something in response if he had understood Gilligan's words or knew how to form words of his own. Instead he simply wagged his tail wildly and licked Gilligan's face. Gilligan laughed. Willy was a perfect companion for him. Even though they didn't speak the same language, they understood each other to a certain extent.

Willy laid his head down on Gilligan's chest and went to sleep. Gilligan decided to sleep too. There was nothing else to do, after all... not with everyone watching his every move**. **So Gilligan laid his hand on Willy's soft fur and quickly drifted off to sleep.

The dream he had was rather frightening:

_Gilligan and Skipper were standing outside of the cave where Gilligan had stashed the genie. Gilligan looked over at Skipper. His arms were crossed over his chest and he looked impatient and angry. It wasn't a foreign look for the captain.  
_

_"Well, what are you waiting for?" Skipper asked, scowling down at Gilligan._

_Gilligan gulped. Somehow he always missed crucial bits and pieces of conversation, and oftentimes he was quite unsure of what people wanted from him. He wasn't sure how, but he must have missed the beginning of this conversation, and therefore wasn't sure what Skipper was asking of him. He shrugged his shoulders and shook his head back and forth, "What do you mean?" he asked, confusion evident in his voice and gestures._

_Skipper slapped him over the head with his hat, "go in there and get the genie, you idiot!" he yelled._

_Gilligan cowered down as Skipper continued to hit him with the hat, over and over again. He was hitting him many more times than usual. Gilligan wondered if he would ever stop, "Um..." he stammered, "I thought you didn't believe me... I thought no one did... There isn't a genie, remember?"_

_"Oh, you want me to believe that, don't you?" Skipper looked very angry. Suddenly the Skipper had a torch in his hand. Gilligan didn't know where it came from. He didn't think the Skipper had it the whole time, but maybe he had... "bring that genie out here, or I'll burn down the whole cave."_

_Gilligan's eyes widened. Would Skipper really do that? He looked like he had meant what he said, so Gilligan thought he had no other choice than to do as the Skipper asked. He wasn't sure if the genie would be harmed by fire. He was magical, but did that mean he was immortal? Gilligan inched around the Skipper and crawled into the cave, making his way all the way to the back chamber where the genie's bottle shone brighter than ever._

_This time, unlike the previous times, the genie was already out of the bottle. _

_"Genie!" Gilligan exclaimed, "what should I do? Skipper wants me to bring you out of the cave... I don't know what he'll do... And if I don't do as he says, he'll burn the cave down!"_

_"I can't help you anymore," the genie said, "I'm sorry, but I belong to the Skipper now."_

_Gilligan shook his head in disbelief, "but... I've only made one wish... And Skipper couldn't have found you... you've been in the back of this cave... Skipper can't fit back here. He couldn't have found you!"_

_"The secret's out," the genie said, looking sad, "you shouldn't have told Mary Ann. Now everyone knows. Everyone knows about me, so I belong to them, not you."_

_"You don't have to belong to me... just tell me what I should do! The whole camp is arguing, Skipper is mad at me! I just want to fix everything!" Gilligan felt so panicked. He wasn't used to being so scared. He was normally so carefree.  
_

_The genie shrugged his massive shoulders._

_"Time's up, Gilligan," Skipper shouted._

_Gilligan looked toward the exit of the cave. Skipper had thrown the torch into the cave, causing the walls and ground of the cave to catch fire very rapidly. Smoke filled the cave, and fire blocked Gilligan's exit. He couldn't get out._

_He looked back at the genie, but he had vanished. The entire bottled had. He looked back toward the exit of the cave. What was he supposed to do? He couldn't run through the fire! He'd burn to death! But he couldn't stay in the cave either, or he'd die from smoke inhalation, and then burn as well.  
_

_Gilligan choked on the smoke that billowed around him, "Skipper! Please help me! Get me out of here! Please!" He tried to find a way out, but the fire was too big. Then he found that none of his limbs would even move anymore. It felt like someone was holding his arms in place, and when he moved his legs, he made no progress at all, "Skipper! Help me! I'm trapped! Help me, Skipper! Please! Don't leave me here!"_

_Gilligan could hardly breathe. His lungs were full of smoke and his heart was full of fear and panic. He still desperately tried to make his body move, but it wouldn't obey him. He could feel tears streaming down his face as he knew that Skipper had left him there, and the genie could do nothing to save him. _

_"Gilligan!" it was the Skipper's voice, "Gilligan, wake up!"_

_Gilligan shook his head. He didn't understand, "help me, Skipper! Please!" he sobbed._

_"Open your eyes, little buddy," Skipper didn't sound nearly as angry anymore, and he sounded much closer than before. "Open your eyes, Gilligan!" the Skipper repeated. He may have even sounded a bit worried._

_Gilligan hadn't realized that he had closed his eyes. He must have though, because they weren't open..._

Gilligan opened his eyes to find that he was not in the flaming cave. He was in his hammock in the hut he shared with the Skipper. He breathed a shaking sigh of relief. Skipper's hands gripped his arms; that was why he couldn't move them before. He must have been flailing his arms about and Skipper must have been trying to keep him from falling out of the hammock. What had just happened had only been a dream; it wasn't real. But the tears on his cheeks were.

"Little buddy," Skipper looked concerned, "you were just dreaming... you're alright."

Gilligan's lip quivered as he looked up at the Skipper. He wasn't sure what to say to the man. Only seconds ago, the Skipper had tried to burn down his secret cave with him in it. Gilligan knew it had only been a dream, but he couldn't help but still feel a little uneasy.

"What were you dreaming about?" the Skipper asked, looking positively bewildered, "you were screaming, calling out for help..."

Gilligan felt his body trembling as he breathed in and out rapidly, still trying to catch his breath from the smoke which had seemed so real seconds earlier. He looked down at Skipper's hands, still wrapped around his arms. Then he looked up into his friend's eyes, but he still couldn't bring himself to say anything.

"Gilligan," Skipper said, "you're okay. Whatever happened, it was only a dream, alright?"

Finally, Gilligan nodded. Skipper was right. He had only been dreaming. Skipper would never do what he had done in Gilligan's dream... Never. Sure, he could be rough at times, but they were still friends. Skipper would never try to burn him to death.

"What's going on in here?" the Professor was standing in the doorway, looking over at them, "Skipper..." he added, "I thought we agreed to go easy on him until this clears itself up... Do you think this is going to help him? What are you trying to do?"

Gilligan knew what the Professor was thinking. Well, maybe he didn't know exactly what the Professor was thinking, but he knew that the Skipper had to look pretty guilty right about now. Skipper was hovering over Gilligan, gripping his arms, and Gilligan must have looked completely terrified, considering that he had just woken up from the most horrifying nightmare he had ever experienced. This certainly didn't make the Skipper look good. Gilligan even still had tears running down his cheeks, "I had a bad dream," he finally managed, "Skipper was just waking me up, honest."

The Professor continued looking them over as if judging the scene for himself.

Skipper released his hold on Gilligan's arms, "he's alright now," Skipper assured the Professor, "right, little buddy?"

Gilligan nodded, "it really was an awful dream, Professor," he told him, "I was so scared. I'm lucky Skipper woke me up when he did. I thought I was gonna die."

The Professor looked upset, "I'm so sorry for making you take that drug, Gilligan," he confessed, "I didn't realize the affects would be so extreme. I certainly hope it wears off completely very soon. You don't deserve to be hallucinating or to be plagued with terrifying nightmares..."

Gilligan knew it wasn't the drug's fault. It was simply his paranoia about everyone being worried about him. He had the dream because everyone thought he was hallucinating and he was scared that someone may actually try to take the genie away from him. The dream stemmed from his own uncertainty about exactly how angry everyone was with him. Maybe they weren't really angry at all. It seemed they were all apologizing to him now. They all thought they were responsible for him going crazy...

At this point, Gilligan simply smiled, "I'm okay, Professor, really," he assured the man, "I have had bad dreams before. It's not your fault."

"Well, you've never had dreams this bad," Skipper commented, "I know you've had nightmares, because you sleep right above me," he rolled his eyes as if even just remembering Gilligan's nightmares was annoying him, "but you've never screamed and cried this much."

Now the Professor looked annoyed, as though Skipper was blaming him for Gilligan's worsened nightmares. It was difficult to accept blame for something, but it was almost impossible to accept an accusation of blame from somebody else. The Professor could easily say Gilligan's state of mind was his fault, but when the Skipper said the same thing, the Professor wouldn't stand for it.

Gilligan sighed, "can't you just stop fighting with each other?" he asked, "lately you two have been mad at each other all the time. I'm not drugged. I'm not making up fake worlds because of the Skipper. I'm completely normal. I just want everyone to stop fussing over me, to let me do what I want to do and explore the island on my own like I always do, and for everyone to stop arguing with one another all the time."

Skipper and the Professor both looked at Gilligan, but made no move to agree to stop arguing with each other. Gilligan could tell they were still on bad terms just because of the tension in the room. And every once in a while, one would sort of scowl at the other.

"Willy and I are going for a walk. Don't follow us," Gilligan said, speaking up for himself much more bluntly than usual, "if you both want to be angry with each other, then go ahead and be grouchy all day; just leave me out of it," he hopped out of the hammock, dried the tears off his cheeks with his sleeve and walked out of the hut. Willy followed him without Gilligan even having to say anything.

The Skipper and Professor seemed stunned. Likely, they weren't used to Gilligan standing up for himself. Gilligan refused to look back at them, even when he heard them start arguing again. He wanted to seem strong and assertive. He wanted them to believe he was confident and to not worry about him or follow him around anymore. He marched into the jungle. No one seemed to be following him.

It didn't take long for him to reach the cave where the genie's bottle was stowed. As soon as he made it there, Willy trotted off into the woods, almost as though the dog had accompanied him solely to make sure he found his way to the cave. Willy was very independent. Gilligan knew he would be fine on his own and would easily find his way back to camp without Gilligan there to lead him, so he let him trot off, knowing he'd see him later.

Gilligan crawled all the way to the back of the cave and picked up the genie's bottle. He popped the cork out, being careful that it didn't hit him, and waited for the genie to emerge.

"Good day," the genie greeted him, "how did things work out with your friends?"

Gilligan shook his head, "they all think I'm crazy. I had a terrible dream that you weren't my genie anymore... that the others stole you... and then Skipper tried to kill us by lighting the cave on fire. It was so scary and seemed so real... I'm just glad it's over." Gilligan felt happy to be able to talk about his concerns with someone. He smiled, "Everyone has been really mad at each other lately... I think things are going to get better though," he said, "I told Skipper and the Professor to stop arguing, and then I told them to stop following me around all the time. There's no way they can get into the cave this far, so we're safe. Only Mary Ann and maybe Ginger could get in this far... Mary Ann wouldn't try to make me come out of the cave, and Ginger probably wouldn't want to get her dress dirty, so she wouldn't come in after me... I mean, after us."

"I'm sorry I've caused so much conflict among your friends. It is never my intention to muddle the lives to those around me. Yet, somehow I always end up doing so," the genie apologized, "it must just be a curse that surrounds my very existence."

"Heeey," Gilligan smiled, "maybe I've got that same curse! I mess up... I mean... muddle? I muddle everything around me in the lives of the people around me too!" He frowned. That didn't sound as elegant as when the genie said it. The genie was so smart, "I mean to say, I mess everything up all the time, even though I don't mean to. You and me are alike in that way," he grinned again.

"Yes, I suppose you and I do share that quality," the genie agreed, "My intentions are always to help whoever finds me, but everything always gets mixed up somewhere along the way."

Gilligan nodded, "I can completely relate to that."

The genie smiled, "I suppose all we can do is just continue with our good intentions and hope something goes right now and then."

Gilligan nodded, "you're so smart, Genie," he commented, "you give good advice, and you always talk in a smart way. I wish you could stay forever and always give me advice and be my friend forever."

The genie raised his eyebrows, "Are you asking me to grant that wish?"

"Hm?" Gilligan hadn't realized that he had actually wished for anything. He had simply been speaking his mind. He was always a very wishful person, "Um... maybe not yet. Genie, would you like it if I wished that? Or do you have places you need to be? Do you look forward to a new person finding your bottle so you can grant new wishes? If I wished for you to stay, would it be like I was keeping your prisoner? I would hate to do that."

"I would gladly stay and give you advice and be a friend to you," the genie replied, "you just need to make sure that it would work out well on your end. Like we just discussed... We both have the uncanny ability to muddle up everything we're involved in. If we both live on the island forever, together, we might actually inadvertently destroy it."

Gilligan thought about this. That might be true. He really liked the genie, but he really liked the island too. It would also be very selfish of him to keep the genie to himself when he could be out granting wishes to other people, "do you like granting wishes to people?" Gilligan wondered. He supposed it was like doing a job, except the genie wasn't getting paid to grant wishes, so maybe it was just like working for free. Gilligan could relate to that.

"Sometimes," the genie answered, "if someone kind-hearted is the person whose wishes I am granting, it is enjoyable. It's nice to bring someone happiness. But when someone cruel or selfish finds my bottle and I must grant him or her wishes, it is much less enjoyable."

Gilligan nodded. That made sense. So if Gilligan wished for the genie to stay here, he would be saving him from having to grant wishes to mean people, but would be taking away the joy he felt when he got to grant wishes to nice people, "Can I wish that you can visit me sometimes when you aren't busy granting wishes to other people?" Gilligan asked, "so you can keep being a regular genie, only I won't have to say goodbye to you forever..."

"You could wish that," the genie told him, "that sounds completely fair to me, and I would love to visit occasionally."

"I'll consider it then," Gilligan smiled, "but for now I think I have an important wish I need to make. I think I want to wish that everyone would stop arguing so much, and all of us in the camp will never argue as much as we have been lately ever again."

"Could I suggest an alternative?" the genie asked.

Gilligan nodded, "sure."

"Might you wish that your friends and you will never argue at all?" the genie suggested.

Gilligan thought about this. If they never argued at all, it might actually get quite annoying, "I don't know about that," he told the genie, "haven't you ever been around someone who agrees with every single thing you ever do or say? It's kind of annoying. If we never argue at all, why even talk to each other? It's natural for people to disagree sometimes, and argue a little... It's just everyone always being mad at each other, and everyone yelling and accusing each other all the time that I don't like. Arguing a little bit, like a normal amount of arguing, is what makes us human, I think."

"That seems fair enough," the genie agreed, "so your wish is for everyone in your group of friends to be on good terms with one-another and for your group to never argue as much as they have been recently?" he asked.

Gilligan nodded, "Yep," he smiled, "sort of that everything would go back to normal; no one would think I'm crazy; no one would think Skipper is a brute; no one would think the Professor is a bad man who steals and gives drugs to everyone... I mean, even if they really do those things sometimes, I don't want everyone fighting about it. We've lived here for so long, and everyone is just the same as they've always been... No one really argued about it this much until recently."

"Very well," the genie smiled at him, "it is done."

"Yay!" Gilligan felt as though he could jump with joy. He probably would have if he wasn't in the cramped space of the cave. Instead, to avoid bumping his head and causing concussion, he just clapped his hands and smiled, "you sure are a swell guy, Genie," he said, "I'm going to have to think about my last wish, okay? You won't be offended either way, right? I mean, if I wish that you could visit, you won't be mad and only visit because you have to? And if I don't wish for that, you won't hate me?"

"Your wishes are entirely up to you, and I'll respect that," the genie told him, "I will not be offended either way. I can see that your heart is in the right place. Your wishes so far have benefited not only you, but your friends as well. I know that your last wish will be something respectable, whatever you choose for it to be."

Gilligan nodded, thinking about the genie's words. His other wishes had been beneficial for everyone. If he wished for the genie to visit him, that wouldn't really benefit the others. It would probably be selfish of him to wish that. Plus, it probably just wasn't in a genie's nature to behave like a regular person. He was so much more magical than that. He couldn't be expected to visit Gilligan as though they were relatives or friends. They were friends... but the genie was a _genie_, not a normal every-day guy... He had a job to do, a role to fulfill, and it wouldn't be right of Gilligan to mess that up. He would have to think of a different wish.

"Genie," Gilligan asked, "how long do I have to decide on my final wish?"

"There's no time limit, Gilligan," the genie told him, "I've had masters who have made all three wishes in a matter of minutes, and I've had some who have taken weeks. One even waited months, but she was a bit absent minded and I think she forgot I was there. You can take as long as you need."

Gilligan smiled, "Oh, good," he said, "I'll be back later then."

The genie nodded, "I'll see you when you return, lad," he said as he shrunk back into the bottle.

Every time the genie entered or exited the bottle, Gilligan couldn't help but stare in amazement. He just couldn't understand how someone could be so big, yet still manage to squeeze in and out of a tiny bottle.

Gilligan crawled out of the cave and slowly started walking back toward camp. He had a lot to think about. He needed to decide on a wish, one that would be wonderful and fun or helpful to all of his friends. He needed to decide when to make the wish. Should he keep the genie around for another week? Or just a few days? Gilligan had been so lucky to find the genie. He needed to give others a chance to be just as lucky. It wouldn't be right for him to keep the genie too long when other desperate people in the world could really be helped by him.

For now, however, he was anxious to see how everyone was getting along at the camp. He had wished that all of the argument would be gone, and that no one would be worried about him anymore. He had faith that the genie could make this happen, yet he still wondered how everyone would respond to suddenly liking each other again and suddenly having no worries about Gilligan's sanity. Would they just act like the last few days had never happened? Or would they just change their minds about all of the issues? Would they all forgive each other and finally believe that Gilligan really did find a genie? Only time would tell...

Gilligan continued walking. He was glad his friends would all be on good terms again. He had a lot of work to do to think of the very best wish possible. He would have to talk to everyone for ideas... but he probably should not mention the genie anymore, just in case... With any luck, he could think of one last wonderful wish that everyone would benefit from, something that would improve their life on the island, or something to just make everyone happy, if only for a little while.

**_xxxxxx_**

**_Review, please. ^_^_**

**Seriously... I'm kind of writing this entire thing with the opinions and comments of my one and only constant reviewer in the back of my mind... _"Would Teobi think this is funny? I wonder if Teobi would think that's too depressing... Should I include more of the Howells? Does Teobi like them? Teobi says I'm still writing in a satisfactory way... so I'll continue to write this way..."_**

**So if you have any suggestions, review now, or forever hold your peace.**

**Personally, I'm a little concerned that the tone of my story changed from horribly depressing to rather upbeat within a single chapter... Is this bad? My story is bipolar...  
**


	8. Chapter 8

_**xxxxxx**_

Slowly and with caution, Gilligan tip-toed back into camp. The first person he ran into was Skipper, and as usual, he literally ran right into him; he must have been too focused on his own feet to have paid any attention to what or who was straight ahead. Even though he had been moving at quite a slow pace, the impact caused Gilligan to fall back, resulting in him landing on the semi-soft sandy ground. Without even bothering to stand up, Gilligan sighed and looked up at the Skipper.

"Hello there, Gilligan," the Skipper reached down and grabbed Gilligan's hand firmly then pulled him up so he was standing on his own two feet again.

"I'm sorry for bumping into you," Gilligan said, wondering why he had to be the person to bring it up this time. Usually when Gilligan collided into the Skipper, the Skipper would have been yelling at him before he even hit the ground.

"Don't worry about it, little buddy," the Skipper smiled.

Gilligan frowned. He hoped the genie had interpreted his wish correctly. Skipper wasn't being his normal self. Gilligan liked to not be yelled at, but he didn't want Skipper's personality to change. A part of Gilligan needed someone to be critical of him. He needed someone to keep him in order. Not all the time, but some of the time at least. If everyone just let Gilligan do whatever he wanted all the time, who knows what trouble he'd get into... "Aren't you a little mad that I don't ever watch where I'm going?" Gilligan asked.

"Well, sure," the Skipper told him, "I mean, I'm not mad... you do need to watch where you're going, but it was an honest mistake. No harm done. I guess I'm just in a good mood. Remember how the Professor and I have been arguing? We finally agreed to let bygones be bygones and forget about it. Everyone makes mistakes, and that includes me, you, him, Mary Ann, Ginger, The Howells... We all just decided to let it go and be friends again. Isn't that great?"

Gilligan smiled. He wished he could have been there to see them suddenly completely forgive each other like that. He was surprised even the genie's magic could get the stubborn Professor and Skipper to put their differences aside and forgive each other.

"Everyone likes each other again? Mr. Howell isn't mad at the Professor either? Mary Ann and Ginger don't think you're too mean to me?" Gilligan asked, trying to be sure that the wish had actually been fulfilled.

Skipper nodded, "We've all got to live on the island together. We might as well stop fighting with each other."

Gilligan wanted to laugh. Skipper was acting so strange. He knew it was only temporary. This is the way Skipper would be if he thought like Gilligan did all the time. Gilligan was always blissfully happy, always looking on the bright side of things, and always trying to make the best out of any situation. For now, the Skipper was thinking along the same lines, but only because the genie had to do something to make everyone suddenly forgive each other. Likely, the rest of the castaways would find themselves in a similarly blissful mood. In time, they would all return to their normal selves, but for now, everyone would likely be looking on the bright side of things.

While he had the Skipper's attention, and while the Skipper was in a good mood, Gilligan decided to try to figure out what he could wish for that might benefit the Skipper too, "Skipper?" Gilligan asked, "if you could wish for anything to make life on the island better, what would it be?"

"Well, gee, I don't know," the Skipper pondered, "maybe better food. I would do just about anything for a steak."

Gilligan smiled. That was pretty simple. It was amazing that one of the Skipper's greatest desires was to have a steak. For such a seemingly demanding man, he would be pretty easy to please, "Out of everything in the world?" Gilligan asked, "that's what you'd want the most? A steak?"

"Well, I mean, it would be nice to have a million dollars or something, but we're on an island. Money would be worthless. As long as I'm here, I guess nice food would be the most practical thing to wish for," the Skipper explained, "you can eat a steak no matter where you are. You can't do anything with money here."

"Tell that to the Howells," Gilligan laughed.

Skipper smiled, "they are a loony bunch, aren't they?"

Gilligan nodded, "Speaking of which, I need to go talk to them," he said, "I'll see you around... and thanks for not being mad at me for running into you."

Skipper nodded, "Sure thing."

Mr. and Mrs. Howell were sitting at a table that was placed outside next to the huts. They each had a fancy looking drink which Mary Ann had probably made for them, and they were discussing some sort of money thing. Gilligan didn't really understand stocks and whatnot, and definitely didn't care.

"Hello," he greeted them, plopping down in a seat next to Mr. Howell, "Whatcha doin?"

"Oh, hello there, Gilligan," Mr. Howell looked over, "we're discussing the stock market. I daresay it's most difficult to buy and sell stocks out here."

Gilligan nodded. He could see how that might be true. Of course, it was probably equally difficult to buy stocks with monopoly money... but he didn't really know anything about it... maybe Mr. Howell was actually talking about buying stocks on Monopoly. Gilligan didn't think the game had that feature, but maybe he just hadn't noticed it before.

"What about you, Gilligan?" Mrs. Howell asked, "what are you doing? I trust you're feeling better. You look well. Skipper said you had a nasty dream this morning. I had an awful dream once. I couldn't find my purse. Dreadful."

Gilligan smiled, "Yeah... I'm feeling great. I just wanted to ask you a question... both of you."

"Ah, go ahead, dear boy. We're all ears," Mr. Howell offered.

"Okay... Well, this is just one of those questions that's not really based off anything real, okay? I mean one that is like a 'what if' question," Gilligan started.

"A hypothetical question?" Mr. Howell suggested.

Gilligan shrugged, "maybe," he wasn't really sure, "if you could have any wish at all, what would it be?"

"Oh, that's easy," Mrs. Howell answered right away, "another mansion, twelve butlers, extravagant jewelry, fine cuisine..."

"Um... I mean, something that you'd like that would make living here better," Gilligan amended.

"Well, it's really the same either way," Mrs. Howell told him, "I think a mansion would be a fine addition to the landscape. And we could really use some butlers. Mary Ann makes a nice drink, and you're helpful too, Gilligan, but there's only so much you two can do."

Gilligan frowned. He didn't want to wish for a mansion. The upkeep would be impossible, "What about you, Mr. Howell?"

"An extravagant social event might be nice," he said, "how about it, Lovey?" he asked his wife, who nodded in agreement as he continued, "we could get all dressed up, dine on fine cuisine, like you suggested... Nice music, expensive wine... And my wish would be that it wouldn't cost me a penny. Not that money would be an issue, of course," he added, patting a pocket on his jacket, which was overflowing with a rainbow of small paper bills.

Gilligan nodded, "that does sound fun," he agreed. He could probably work the Skipper's wish and the Howell's into one. A party with nice food and nice wine. Now he just needed to figure out what Ginger, Mary Ann, and the Professor would like, "Well... I'll leave you alone so you can get back to talking about stocks," he told them.

Next he made his way to the girls' hut. He knocked, just in case they weren't properly dressed. He didn't want to just barge in and see something he didn't want to see. They would be offended, and he would certainly be embarrassed and disturbed.

Ginger opened the door, "Hello," she greeted him, "what brings you here?"

"Hi," Gilligan responded, "I just wanted to ask you and Mary Ann a question. A 'what if' kind of question."

"You mean a hypothetical question?" Mary Ann asked as she walked up behind Ginger, "go ahead."

"If you could wish for anything to make life on the island better, what would you wish for?" Gilligan asked.

"Is this about that genie you were talking about before?" Mary Ann asked, "I told you I'm no good at make-believe... but I guess I can probably think of something... Hmmm... let's see... something to make life on the island better..."

While she was thinking, Ginger answered, "Definitely more outfits. I've been wearing this same dress over and over again. It's definitely out of fashion by now, and nothing in the fashion world is worse than wearing the same dress over and over again. It's scandalous that I've even worn it more than once," she frowned, sticking her lower lip out in a pouting expression, "If my friends could see me now... They'd probably disown me."

That fit in with the Howell's wish too. With any luck, an extravagant party with fancy clothing, food, and whine would fulfill everyone's desires. It was Mary Ann and the Professor who might not fit the mold though... especially the Professor. He wasn't very social. A party might not be his forte. He'd probably want some lab equipment or something.

"I'm sure your friends would still like you," Gilligan assured her, "it shouldn't matter what you wear... It's your personality that matters."

"Trust me Gilligan," She said, looking serious, "it matters very much what I wear..."

Gilligan shrugged, "okie dokie... what about you, Mary Ann?" he asked, turning toward her, "what would you wish for to make the island better?"

"I really don't know, Gilligan," she told him, "the most important things in life are friends, family, food, shelter... We have all of those things already. Our huts are actually surprisingly durable... I can't think of anything we really need... Growing up on a farm, I've always been taught to focus on what I need, not what I want... but as I grew up, I realized that the things I need are often times the things I want too."

"Wow, Mary Ann," Gilligan was impressed, "that's a really good answer."

Ginger scoffed, "you're far too easy to please, Mary Ann. There are so many things that would improve life on this island... More clothing, shampoo, air conditioning, sunglasses... I could go on forever..."

"Well, I suppose Ginger is right. Those things would improve life here. Life here is great, but of course there's still room for improvement. So I guess some shampoo would be nice. Its hard to feel clean around here," Mary Ann finally decided, "so my wish would be for shampoo."

Gilligan smiled. People thought he was an irrational goofball... Mary Ann was the goofball... out of everything in the world, what she wanted most was shampoo... He frowned. Shampoo didn't fit with the party theme. He would have to think of a way to fit it into the same wish, "I'll see you girls later," he said, "I've got to talk to the Professor now."

"Don't let him talk you into trying any more medicines," Mary Ann warned him.

Gilligan nodded. He didn't think the Professor would do that again. He had seemed rather sorry about doing it the previous time.

He knew the professor would probably be in his hut. Out of everyone on the island, the Professor spent the least amount of time outside. The time he did spend outside was usually in collecting resources for his experiments and medicines.

Gilligan knocked on his hut door.

"Come in," he heard the Professor's voice.

"Hello, Professor," Gilligan greeted him, "can I ask you a hypothetical question?"

The Professor looked up. He looked sort of surprised, "I didn't know you knew that word, Gilligan," he commented, "go ahead."

Gilligan smiled. He hadn't known that word until today. Now he felt very smart for using it and impressing the Professor, "Okay, if you could wish for anything in the world to make life on the island better, what would you wish for?" Gilligan asked.

The Professor pondered for a brief moment, "I suppose I'd have to wish for a wider assortment of protein-rich foods. You see, living on the island, our diets are lacking in protein. Our calorie intake is mostly fruits. In order to stay as healthy as possible, and thus live longer, more protein is necessary," the Professor explained.

"Like chicken?" Gilligan asked.

"Yes," the Professor told him, "meats, nuts, legumes... they all contain protein."

"Are you wishing for that because you'd actually want it, or just to be smart?" Gilligan asked. He wanted to be able to wish for something that the Professor actually wanted, not for something that he felt was a smart science type thing to wish for, "wouldn't you rather have neat-o science lab stuff or a scientist coat or something?" Gilligan asked.

"I already have all of the science things I need, Gilligan. That's the good part about living on this island. There are so many useful natural resources. I don't need a lab coat... Protein would be the most logical thing to wish for if I was given that option."

Gilligan shrugged, "Okie dokie. I've got to go... I'll see you later."

Gilligan started off toward the genie's cave once more. He needed to make a wish that would reflect everyone's desires. A party where everyone could dress up all fancy-like, delicious food, including lots of protein(such as steak, Skipper's wish), nice drinks, and of course... shampoo for Mary Ann... He would have to ask the genie how he could go about sorting that all into one wish... He wasn't sure if wishing for tons of things and trying to smash it all into one wish was allowed. But he'd know soon...

_**xxxxxx**_

_**I only sort of proof-read it. :D  
**_

_**One more chapter ought to do it. (ha. Oh my gosh. I wrote "ought!" he he he!)  
**_


	9. Chapter 9

_**xxxxxx**_

Gilligan was about to see the genie for the last time ever, and he was kind of bummed about it. Over the past several days, the genie had become a good friend to him, giving him advice, talking to him, and just being somewhat parental, which was something Gilligan really appreciated. Sneaking to the genie's cave every so often was something Gilligan would definitely miss. Sure, he would sneak to the cave countless times in the future, to stash other treasures there, but there wouldn't be a genie there anymore; it just wouldn't be the same as it had been.

He reached the cave in no time. However, instead of eagerly tunneling his way to the back of the cave as usual, this time Gilligan paused. The thought of visiting the genie for the very last time made him nervous. He wasn't ready to say goodbye. He didn't want to get too emotional and cry in front of the genie during their last visit. That could make the genie feel bad and make him cry too, or it could make the genie think Gilligan was being a baby. Gilligan needed to be strong and stoic about this.

Taking a deep breath, Gilligan forced a big grin and started into the cave. Smiling always helped him to feel better when he was down. Even if the smile wasn't genuine, it still helped. It made him feel silly, and that always brightened his mood. He found that if he smiled and laughed in a tense situation, even if the smiles and laughs were fake, eventually he'd feel so absurd that he'd start smiling and laughing for real.

In the back chamber of the cave shone the beautiful bottle with the genie inside. Gilligan picked it up, pointed it away from himself, took a deep breath and smiled big, and popped the cork. The cork flew out of the bottle and bounced off the wall. Gilligan ducked as it came back at him. Fortunately, he ducked in time and the cork didn't smash into his eye again. The bruise from the first time was just now finally starting to fade. It would have been a shame to create a fresh cork bruise now.

While Gilligan was dodging the cork, the genie snaked his way out of the bottle. When Gilligan recovered from the fear of almost being shot with the cork again, he crawled to his knees and looked up at the genie, who looked affectionately back down at him.

"Hello again," the genie smiled, "have you come up with your last wish already?"

Gilligan shrugged, "sort of," he started, "I was wondering if you could help me with it... I've got sort of a group wish, but it might be too much to count as one wish... I was wondering if you could work individual wishes for each of my friends all into one big wish, so I can use my last wish for everyone."

The genie nodded, "well, I could see what I can do... What are their wishes?"

"Okay..." Gilligan looked up at nothing as he thought, "um... the Skipper wishes for steak," Gilligan giggled, "he loves steak. Mr. and Mrs. Howell want a party where they can dress up and have nice whine. Ginger wants some nice clothing, which fits with the party wish... The Professor wants protein, which fits with the steak wish... So if I wished for a party with nice food, like steak, fancy clothing, and whine, that would fulfill all of their wishes... Except Mary Ann wishes for shampoo... and I don't know how that fits with the others... I just want to use my last wish to do something that everyone would enjoy..."

The genie smiled, "I think we can find a way to work it into one wish. There are certain rules I have to follow, but they are relatively vague for the most part. I can grant a wish to be rich and famous, so why not grant a wish for a party and shampoo? Why would 'and' only be legal some of the time?"

"That's a very good point, Genie," Gilligan grinned. He loved that the genie was helping him instead of twisting his wishes around like some evil genies from stories did. He was very fortunate to have found a friendly genie instead of a tricky evil one.

"Alright, so tell me again what you're wishing for," the genie suggested, "slowly, all in one wish."

"Okay," Gilligan paused, thinking. He nodded to himself and started, "I wish for a party tonight, where all of the castaways would be invited, and everyone would have nice new clothing that they can keep when the party is done, and all the girls would have pretty jewelry, and at the party there would be lots of protein, especially steak, and other good food, and also whine because the Howell's like that stuff, and also before the party everyone will get some shampoo that they can clean their hair with so they'll feel nice at the party," Gilligan stopped, and counted each of his friends on his fingers, making sure he had included everyone, "party for the Howell's," he stuck up two fingers, "protein and steak for the Professor and the Skipper," two more fingers, "nice new clothing for Ginger," another finger, "and shampoo, for Mary Ann," another finger, "that's everyone... OH! And I wish for Willy to receive a chew toy at the party."

"What about for you, Gilligan?" the genie asked, "is there anything you'd like for yourself? You've included every one of your friends in your list, even Willy, but you've forgotten to include anything for you."

Gilligan thought for a moment. He really already had everything he wanted. What Mary Ann had said before was right. He had a relatively good shelter, and he had food, and he had all of his friends. There wasn't much else that could make life on the tropical island any better. Even Willy was here now! What more could he ask for? After another moment of pondering, he finally thought of something, "Oh! I know! Balloons!" he exclaimed, "there should be balloons at the party too! Ones that when they get deflated will disappear, so we don't have old popped balloons laying around everywhere."

The genie smiled, "that's an excellent addition," he agreed, "it will definitely make it seem more party-like."

"Yeah," Gilligan agreed, "all the best parties have balloons."

The genie nodded in agreement, "alright then," he said, "before I grant the wish, I'll ask you if you are certain that this is the final wish that you'd like. Are you certain?"

Gilligan hesitated. Would the genie just disappear if he said yes? Maybe he could just ask him. He decided he probably should, "when you grant my last wish, will you disappear?"

"Ah," the genie seemed as though he had forgotten to explain this earlier, "typically, when the last wish is granted, I'll go back into the bottle, and my master would take the bottle to a remote location and throw it as far as they could (the fact that the bottle is magical makes it go much farther than if someone naturally threw it.) In your case, I'd have you throw my bottle as far as you could into the ocean, so someday someone on another island or coast might find me. The magic in the bottle would cause it to go far enough that it doesn't simply wash back up on the shore here."

"Oh," Gilligan commented, "so... when would I have to do that?"

"Whenever it's convenient. Of course, don't wait months or a year, but it doesn't have to be immediately," the genie explained, "the sooner you throw the bottle out into the ocean, the sooner the next person can find it."

"Can I ask one more favor?" Gilligan wondered. The genie nodded, "After I make the wish, will you stay here and then come out one last time so I can talk to you before I throw the bottle into the ocean? So I can see you one last time before I have to say goodbye forever?"

The genie looked sad, as though Gilligan had just told him the saddest story he had ever heard, "Yes," he said simply, "I can do that."

"Great!" Gilligan smiled and hugged the genie, "so this isn't the last time I'll ever see you!"

"No," the genie agreed, "I guess it isn't. Shall I grant the wish now then?"

Gilligan nodded, "thank you so much, Genie!"

"It is done," the genie told him after a moment, "the things for the party should be arriving soon. Each person's new clothing should appear in their huts. And here is a basket of shampoo you can deliver to everyone at your camp," he handed Gilligan a basket full of expensive looking shampoo, "whenever you are ready for the party to start, it will begin."

"Oooooh," Gilligan marveled, "how magical," he smiled and clapped his hands, "a party that will start simply just by me wanting it to. I feel like a prince."

"Good," the genie told him, "you should feel special, Gilligan," he told him, "you're a very kind-hearted boy, and you deserve to feel like a prince."

Gilligan blushed. Compliments were somewhat foreign to him, and he always felt odd when someone said something really nice about him, sort of like maybe he didn't deserve to be praised. He always thought of himself as sort of a screw up. He knew he wasn't mean or selfish, but all of the mistakes he made probably canceled out those positive character traits. Whenever someone told him how kind he was, he sort of felt like he was cheating the comment out of them. Maybe he was kind, but for that to be acknowledged felt as though everyone was forgetting how many times he ruined everything by being clumsy, gullible, idiotic, or simply in the way.

He couldn't think of something else to say to the genie's comment. He didn't want to agree with the genie, but he didn't want to disagree either. So instead, he simply hugged his magical friend once more, "thank you so much for everything," he told him, "I'm really going to miss you."

"Hey," the genie looked down at him, "none of that just yet," he suggested, "it's not time for goodbyes. You've got a party to get to," he smiled, "I'll be right here when you come back. Have a good time with your friends, and don't worry about goodbyes until later. We'll have plenty of time for that."

Gilligan nodded, "okie dokie," he said, "I guess I'll see you later then... Oh... you can come to the party if you want," Gilligan offered.

The genie shook his head, "I have no need for such things... and besides, all of your friends would think you're mad when you start talking to me when none of them can see me... We've been through that once before, remember?"

Gilligan smiled, "yeah... I guess you're right. So... I'll come back after, and we'll talk then?"

The genie nodded.

Gilligan waved goodbye, but only a temporary goodbye (for now anyway) and made his way out of the cave. He wondered exactly how suspicious everyone would be when everything they had wished for earlier magically showed up. He hadn't even considered it until now. Hopefully they would all be grateful and wouldn't bother him about the details. With any luck, the effects of the last wish would linger and everyone would be too carefree and happy to even bother wondering where it all came from.

Gilligan swung the basket of shampoo as he walked. He was about halfway back to camp when he heard rustling of leaves. Gilligan froze. Had someone followed him? Was it Mary Ann again? He turned around. He didn't see anyone. He hoped no one had followed him to the cave. Then everyone might think he was crazy again. He had just finally fixed that whole misunderstanding, and he no longer had a genie to clear that kind of thing up...

The leaves rustled again. Gilligan spun around just as he felt something jump at his legs, but it wasn't a strong enough force to knock him down. Instantly, he knew who had followed him. It was Willy. Gilligan smiled and picked the little dog up off the ground and hugged him. He had wondered where Willy had gone to. He was glad to know Willy was getting to know his way around the island. He placed Willy back onto the ground and they walked side-by-side back to camp.

When they arrived, they were greeted by the sight of everyone sitting at the large table out by the huts.

"Oh, Gilligan, there you are," Mary Ann greeted, "we were wondering where you had gone."

"I have a surprise for you all," Gilligan told him, "but there's one condition," he added, "you can't ask me where it came from."

Skipper raised his eyebrows, "why can't we ask where it came from, Gilligan? What is it?"

"You can't ask me," he said again, "it's something good too... so promise you won't ask, and I'll let you have it," he grinned. He could see in everyone's eyes that they were curious. A few looked like they were skeptical, as though they expected Gilligan would probably give them a pretty rock or a butterfly. Not that those weren't good presents, but Gilligan knew they would appreciate the shampoo much more than the pretty rocks he had given them for Christmas last year.

"Fine," Ginger said, "Let's see what it is," she said.

"Everyone... promise not to ask where it came from," Gilligan said. He wanted everyone's promise before he'd give them the shampoo.

"I promise," Mary Ann offered.

"As do we," Mr. Howell offered, "right Lovey?"

"Yes, of course," Mrs. Howell agreed, "It's no business of ours where Gilligan gets his gifts. It's actually rather impolite to ask."

The Professor shrugged, "I won't ask," he said.

Gilligan looked to the Skipper, the most stubborn one. They locked eyes, and for a moment it seemed like they might have some sort of staring contest. Gilligan wasn't going to let the Skipper win this one though.

"Fine," the Skipper agreed, "I promise not to ask where you got it."

Gilligan smiled and took the basket out from behind him, "I've got some shampoo!" he yelled out, "everyone gets a bottle!"

"Gilligan! Where did you-" Ginger started, but then stopped herself. She shrugged. It probably didn't really matter much to her. The important thing was that there was shampoo here now. What difference would it make where it came from?

"Oh, look Dear," Mrs. Howell said as she looked at the various bottles, "there are different scents! Oh, I think I'd love the raspberry one!"

Gilligan smiled as everyone looked through the bottles and chose a scent they approved of. He ignored the scrutinizing glances the Professor and Skipper threw his way. They had promised not to ask, and Gilligan wasn't going to answer the unasked question either.

When everyone had chosen a bottle, Gilligan noticed there were still two left. One scented like coconut (because by now everyone was sick of anything involving coconut, so no one chose it,) and one scented like pears. Gilligan liked coconuts and pears. He hoped Willy did too, because he and Willy were going to share both of these. Willy needed to take a bath before the party too.

"Mary Ann and I are going to the lagoon," Ginger commented, "no one look over there for the next twenty minutes."

"Everyone," Gilligan brought their attention toward him, "I have another surprise after you wash your hair... There should be some nice new clothing in everyone's hut. Hopefully you'll like it... So put it on and meet me and Willy back here in about an hour."

Everyone agreed to this. They were in awe that Gilligan somehow managed to get shampoo, so they didn't even question him.

Gilligan skipped merrily toward the in-land waterfall in the center of the island. The water there was relatively still and calm, so he and Willy could take a bath there. Skipper, the Howells and the Professor would probably take turns with the shower they had built, and the girls were at the lagoon, so the waterfall was the only place left where he and Willy wouldn't have to wait their turn. It was probably the best option too, because the waterfall would be just like a shower, and Gilligan didn't mind the cool water.

Willy and Gilligan had a wonderful swim and bath in the waterfall, and came back smelling of pears and coconuts. Within a short time, everyone was back at camp, and they were all dressed in new clothing. Gilligan smiled when he noticed the Skipper, and the Professor were dressed in clothing identical to their old ones. Gilligan liked his old clothing, so he knew that if given the chance to choose, he'd have chosen identical ones to replace them. He wondered if the genie somehow gave everyone whichever clothing they would have chosen on their own. That would be very magical if he could tell what they wanted without asking.

Just as soon as everyone was there, Gilligan wanted the party to start, and it did. Balloons sprung up, tables full of delicious foods (including steak) popped up out of nowhere, bottles of whine and nice glass whine glasses appeared, the music on the radio turned into dance music, and lit tiki torches surrounded the perimeter of the party area, giving off light so that everyone could see.

"Gilligan!" Mary Ann seemed amazed, "how did you manage this? I thought maybe you found the shampoo in a washed up crate or something... but balloons? Steak? whine and whine glasses? How could you have found all of this?"

"It was all in a crate; I swear," Gilligan lied.

"Even the helium to fill up the balloons?" the Professor was not convinced.

"We found helium on the island, remember?" Gilligan told him.

Ginger was the first to agree to give up in asking. She didn't care where all this stuff came from. She poured herself a glass of whine and asked the Professor to dance. The Professor then gave up questioning Gilligan as well.

"Well, it doesn't much matter where it came from," Mrs. Howell commented, "the important thing is that it's here."

"And it didn't cost us a dime!" Mr. Howell added. He and his wife went off and started dancing as well.

Skipper and Mary Ann looked at Gilligan, who shrugged, as if telling them that he didn't have any answers.

"Well, Mary Ann..." Skipper started, seemingly giving up on getting any answers out of his little buddy, "want to dance?"

Mary Ann smiled, "I'd love to!"

Gilligan grinned. He couldn't believe how easily they gave up. Maybe he could learn from this. The next time everyone was bothering him, he could just persist in refusing to give in, and they would give up. But perhaps they gave up so easily this time because they knew there was a party waiting for them. It mightn't be so easy next time.

Gilligan and Willy made their way over to the table containing snacks. There were potato chips there! He hadn't even asked for that. He wondered if the genie could read his mind... because potato chips were one of his favourite foods, and there they were, even without Gilligan specifically asking for them...

He took a bowl of them and went over by the camp fire which was on the edge of the party area. He and Willy sat down. Gilligan shared the potato chips with Willy, while they watched the rest of the castaways dancing. Gilligan was very happy that everyone seemed to be having a good time. Ginger and Mary Ann looked pretty in their new dresses. Mrs. and Mr. Howell looked rich and fancy in their outfits. Skipper and the Professor looked normal, but still both looked happy.

Before long, Skipper had tired of dancing and decided to have some steak. He brought it with him over to the campfire and sat down by Gilligan.

"Hello there, Little Buddy," Skipper grinned, "I don't know how you managed to put this party together... and maybe I never will, but I'm very impressed. Really, Gilligan, how did you put this all together? There's no way there were cooked steaks and all this in a crate that just floated onto the beach... and there's no way you found a cow and made steak out of it... You'd never be able to do that."

"You're right," Gilligan agreed, "I couldn't kill a cow. I'd feel too bad. I had a friend cow once. I called her Betty."

Skipper shook his head, "so how did you do it?"

Gilligan shrugged, "the same way you made friends with me, silly. A cow can be just as good of a friend as anyone. Maybe even a better friend than most people. Betty was real nice. And she never judged me. Whenever I did something stupid, she didn't mind."

"Not that, Gilligan," Skipper sighed, "how did you make this party?"

Gilligan decided to change the subject, "you better watch out," he said, "I see Willy eying your steak. He's a good boy, but even he can't resist steak. If you turn away for just a second, he'll have the whole thing eaten."

"Gilligan," Mary Ann walked up behind them.

Skipper and Gilligan turned to face her.

"Would you like to dance with me?" she asked.

Gilligan blushed. Dancing with girls wasn't something he really cared for. He liked them just fine, and Mary Ann was a really good friend... He just knew how other people saw such things. He shrugged to himself. It didn't much matter what other people thought. Mary Ann was a nice girl; he could dance with her just because they were friends. They wouldn't have to be dating or anything.

"Just as friends," she added, seeming to sense his hesitation.

Gilligan nodded, "Of course." He turned to Skipper, "see you later, Skipper."

Skipper waved, his mouth too full of steak for him to speak.

Mary Ann offered her hand and pulled Gilligan up off the ground. He followed her back to the main area where Mr. and Mrs. Howell were still dancing. Ginger and the Professor had moved over to the snack table and were examining its contents.

Gilligan and Mary Ann danced as friends would, not too close, but not so far away as to imply that they didn't know each other at all. As they danced, they talked.

"This really is a wonderful party. I think this is the most fun any of us have had in a long time," she told him.

"Well, I'm really glad you're all having fun," Gilligan agreed, "I'm having fun too. And I think Willy is enjoying it. He gets everyone's leftover food. And Willy just loves leftovers. I used to give him pizza crusts all the time, and he-" Gilligan stopped mid-sentence as he realized he had accidentally mentioned his life with Willy prior to them living here. Mary Ann didn't seem to notice, so he went ahead and finished his thought, "he really liked them..."

Mary Ann smiled, "everyone is wondering how you managed to organize all this. No one really knows... but I think I do."

Gilligan stepped back and looked at her, "you do?"

"The genie, right? You really were telling the truth," she guessed, "I didn't believe you, because well... I didn't think genies were real... But you've been acting strange and the dog showed up out of nowhere... Then everyone forgave each other really quickly without reason, and now there's a party, containing everything we said we would wish for, including my shampoo... It has to be a genie... what else could it be?"

Gilligan hesitated. He didn't know what excuse to make. It was impossible for him to have created this party out of resources on the island. No matter what excuse he gave, Mary Ann was going to know he was lying. She had already figured it out.

"Mary Ann," Gilligan started, still looking at her very seriously, "Promise not to tell the others... And really mean it this time."

Mary Ann frowned, "oh... I'm sorry Gilligan... I know I broke my promise last time... I was really worried about you because I thought you were imagining the genie... Now that I know it's real, I promise not to tell anyone. Have you got any wishes left?" She asked, "I'm not trying to steal them or anything," she quickly added, "I'm just wondering..."

Gilligan shook his head, "Nope. I had three, and I used them all. One was for Willy. The second was for everyone to stop fighting. And the third was for the party."

"Wow," Mary Ann grinned, "that was awfully nice of you to use you last wish on everyone. And to think... I would have just wished for shampoo... I'm really selfish aren't I?"

Gilligan shook his head, "no," he said, "I don't think so," he told her, "you're very nice to me... You get worried about me and go out of your way to try to help me all the time. That's not selfish at all. Shampoo is a good wish. My hair feels really soft now. And so does Willy's."

Mary Ann giggled, "Well... good wish or not... it was still not as thoughtful as yours."

"But you didn't actually have a genie... I just asked you a hypothetical question. If you had a real genie of your own, I know you'd make good wishes," Gilligan assured her, "you're really nice. It's obvious because you cook for everyone and do laundry even though you don't have to. No one says you have to do all those chores, but you do it anyway, because you want to be nice to people."

"Aww... Thank you, Gilligan," Mary Ann grinned, "and thank you for dancing with me," she said as the song that had been playing drew to an end.

Gilligan smiled. They hadn't actually been dancing for the past minute or so, but they couple minutes they had spent dancing had been enjoyable, "you're welcome," he told her, "thank you for dancing with me too."

She nodded, "you're very welcome. I'm going to go talk with Ginger," she leaned in close to him, "and I promise not to tell about your genie."

Gilligan held out his pinkie finger, "pinkie swear?" he asked when Mary Ann looked at him in confusion.

She nodded and curled her pinkie around his, "pinkie swear," she said, smiling, "not a word to anyone."

Gilligan spent the rest of the night talking with everyone here and there, playing with Willy, and sucking helium out of balloons, thereby talking in a funny voice and making all of his friends laugh. The night seemed to last longer than it should have, maybe by the magic of the genie. Everyone seemed to have had a wonderful time. But at last, the party had come to an end and everyone went to sleep. Everyone, except Gilligan. He had one last thing he needed to do...

**_xxxxxx_**

**_There's going to be one last chapter. This was going to be the last one, but it's already almost 5,000 words long, so I thought I'd better split it into two chapters. The last chapter probably won't be as long as this one, but it won't be horribly short either. It will still be a decent sized chapter. ^_^ (by my own fanfiction standards anyway...)_**

**_I'm actually sort of proud of this chapter. It isn't very dramatic, but I like it anyway. I am especially proud of the joke about being friends with a cow... "So how did you do it?" Ha ha! Gilligan thought he was asking how he made friends with a cow... but he wasn't! HA! It's probably not as good as I think it is, and a year from now I'll read this and think "I was so dumb..." but for now, I think I did a good job. ^_^_**

**_One chapter left...  
_**


	10. Chapter 10

_**xxxxxx**_

Whistling as he walked, Gilligan felt rather happy. Despite the fact that he was on his way to share his final visit with his good friend genie, he still was filled with a warm feeling of happiness. The party he had wished for had been wonderful. Everyone had a great time, and only one person figured out his genie secret, and she pinkie swear promised not to mention it to anyone else... Not that it would matter much, because the genie would be gone soon; either everyone would think he was crazy or they would think Mary Ann was crazy... maybe both.

As he crawled into the cave, Gilligan frowned. Regardless of the happiness he felt for the fun party he had just shared with his friends, he couldn't mask the sadness he felt in having to say goodbye to his newest friend.

Before opening the bottle for the last time, Gilligan sighed. He had brought with him today a piece of paper the Professor had made out of a certain kind of tree, and a pen the Howells had brought with them for whatever reason. Old men almost always had a pen handy, and Mr. Howell was no exception. And Gilligan had no trouble getting the slightly intoxicated old man to lend him the pen.

It was Gilligan's intention to write a note and send it with the genie for the next person who found the genie to read, but he wasn't sure what to write. He sat in the deepest chamber of the cave, with only the shiny bottle illuminating the darkness. He stared down at the paper, thinking of what he could possibly write that would do the genie justice. He wanted to somehow tell the next person how special the genie was, and emphasize how lucky they were to have found him, but of course, that person would see for him or herself how lucky they were when the genie emerged and granted them wishes. There was no need for Gilligan to tell them what they could plainly see for themselves...

He put the paper and pen into his back pocket. He could write the letter later, or not at all. Instead, he popped the cork of the bottle, for the last time. Gilligan watched as the genie swirled out of the bottle. The genie looked sort of sad, but also somehow happy.

"I trust your party went well," the genie smiled down at Gilligan.

He nodded, "everyone really enjoyed it. And so did I. Willy even had a nice time," Gilligan smiled and turned to see if Willy had followed him. He hadn't. Gilligan frowned. This meant after he threw the genie's bottle into the ocean, he'd have to walk back to the camp all alone, even while he felt sad. Gilligan didn't like feeling sad, especially having to feel sad with no one there to be with him.

"I'm very glad to hear it," the genie told him.

Gilligan sighed, "I wish you were a human person and could stay here and make friends with everyone. I'm sure they would all like you just as much as I do..."

"It would be interesting to be human, I think," the genie agreed, "but I am what I am."

Gilligan nodded, "and a genie is a good thing to be, I guess, because you get to make people happy. Even though you have to say goodbye to the friends you make, you always get to move on and make new friends."

"That's very true," the genie said, "I've met so many people. And though some are horrid and selfish, the ones that are kind and thoughtful, like you, make up for the others. I've become good friends with quite a few of my masters. I probably couldn't even count how many people I have met in my lifetime..."

Gilligan frowned. Did this mean that after a while the genie wouldn't even remember him? If the genie went on to meet a million more people, a billion more... and granted all of their wishes, in the end, would Gilligan be just another person to the genie, another unremarkable human to add to the massive list of countless 'masters?' Gilligan loved the genie so much. He was such a special person. Gilligan found that he cared deeply about what the genie thought of him. He wanted the genie's approval. But did Gilligan mean as much to the genie as the genie meant to Gilligan? He was scared to ask...

"Is there something wrong?" the genie wondered, probably because he noticed Gilligan hadn't spoken in a while. Likely Gilligan's concern was evident in his facial expression as well.

Gilligan hesitated. The genie met tons of people... why should he remember Gilligan in the long run? If Gilligan met a billion genies, would he be able to sort one from the others? How could he expect the genie to remember him forever? It would be like Gilligan trying to remember a milkshake he had eaten. Sure, some milkshakes had been tastier than others, but in the end, they were all still just milkshakes, and he couldn't remember any specific one...

"I can see that you're upset," the genie noted, "I know you don't want to say goodbye, but sitting silently and refusing to speak won't make it any easier... I'm here now, and if you want to talk, I'll talk. Don't try to suppress your emotions. You may not be able to see it, but I'm probably just as melancholy as you are. Goodbyes are never easy, but it helps to discuss your feelings."

Gilligan sighed. Of course the genie was right about that. Gilligan was sad that he had to say goodbye, and wasn't sure how he was going to go about doing it. Now, however, his sadness stemmed from the suspicion that his wonderful, generous, incredible friend wouldn't even remember him after a while. "Genie..." he finally decided to just ask, "will you remember me? I mean, later, after you've met lots of other people..."

The genie seemed shocked, almost offended at that question, "Will I remember you? Of course I will! How could I forget you?"

"Well... if you meet so many people, how can you remember all of them? I know you'll remember me for a little while," Gilligan responded, "but what about after you've met a thousand other people? How will you remember individual ones from so long ago?"

"Have you forgotten that I'm a genie?" the genie asked, smiling, "I grant magical wishes and live in a bottle that shouldn't even be able to contain my foot, let alone my entire body. Everything I do defies logic and reason. I remember every master I've ever had. I will always remember you, Gilligan, as the most kindhearted boy I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. You'll forever be remembered as the lad who lives on an island with his crazy friends, the lad who wished for a dog to keep him company, and who used his last wish to benefit everyone who lived with him instead of just himself. A person who would spend their wishes on others is surprisingly uncommon. Though I remember all of my masters, you will definitely hold a special place in my heart forever."

Gilligan felt like he might cry, "you too," he said, meaning that the genie would hold a special place in his heart as well, "You've been very nice to me, even when you didn't have to... and you could have taken advantage of how I didn't always word my wishes clearly... you could have been a mean genie, but you weren't. You gave me advice and cared about me instead of only granting the three wishes that you had to grant. You're so much more than just a simple old genie. I mean, I haven't met any other genies... but I'm sure you're the very best one there is."

"You know, Gilligan, I have met countless humans in my life, and I know that you're one of the very best ones," the genie told him, "and I really mean that."

Gilligan smiled and reached out to hug the genie. The genie immediately embraced Gilligan as well. Gilligan could feel tears trailing down his cheeks. He had intended on being as stoic as possible, but he just couldn't help himself. He had been developing such a wonderful friendship with the genie, and just as they were becoming great friends, he now had to say goodbye forever. He couldn't help but cry.

Their hug seemed to last forever, but finally they both let go of each other and stepped back.

"I suppose this is goodbye then," Gilligan said, "I'm never going to be ready to say goodbye, no matter how long I stay here, so I guess we might as well just do it..."

"You're very right," the genie agreed, "We could wait until morning, but it wouldn't make our parting any easier."

Gilligan felt his lip trembling as he tried to keep himself from starting to cry again, "thank you for all of your help, Genie," he said. He could hear his own voice shaking slightly, "thank you for granting my wishes, for giving me advice, and for just being a really nice pal."

The genie nodded, "I've never been happier to grant someone's wishes than I have been to grant yours. I will truly miss you."

"I'll miss you too," Gilligan agreed.

The genie hugged Gilligan one last time, "goodbye," he said.

"Goodbye," Gilligan repeated back. He closed his eyes and hugged the genie for a few more seconds. Gilligan kept his eyes closed as the genie disappeared back into the bottle. He didn't want to watch the genie go into the bottle this time, because it just made the fact that he was leaving seem all the more real.

Gilligan breathed in deeply once he opened his eyes and saw that the genie had retreated back into his bottle. Now he needed to find the highest point on the island and toss the bottle into the ocean from there. He knew just where to go: to the cliffs that rose up really high on one side of the island. He usually didn't go there, because it was kind of scary to be up so high on sharp rocks like that, especially at night... but he wanted to throw the genie's bottle into the ocean at a good place, and that seemed like the best place to do it.

He trekked to the cliffs quickly, because they weren't very far from the cave where he had just been. When he made it to the top of the highest cliff, he could see that the sun was just barely beginning to peak over the horizon. His party must have lasted longer than he had thought. Either that, or his encounter with the genie had been much longer than it had seemed, which was entirely possible, because it seemed to be very quick, probably because he had wanted it to last forever. Gilligan found that nothing ever seemed to last long unless he didn't want it to. He felt like his meeting with the genie had lasted only minutes, but in reality, it could have been hours.

He needed to write his note for the next person who found the genie. He didn't really plan what it would say, but he knew he could think of something, and whatever he came up with right on the spot would be more genuine than something he planned out and rehearsed, so he just started writing:

_"Deer lucky persin who finds this bottle,  
_

_The genie in hear iz very speshul. You shuld no that you are very lucky to find him. He is a gud genie, so don't worry about him trying to trik you. He won't try to turn your wishes arownd or anything like some genies do. This genie iz a real nice guy, and while I new him, he became a very gud frind to me. So please be nice to him and tell him Gilligan says HI! Also, don't tell yor frinds that you fownd a genie, becaus they will all think yor krazy!_

_Sincuerly, Gilligan"_

Gilligan realized that his spelling was horrendous, but he hoped whoever found the bottle next would be able to read his message well enough. Especially the part where he had written for the next person to tell the genie Gilligan said 'hi.'

Now he needed to get the note into the bottle. Gilligan slowly pulled the cork out of the bottle, holding onto it tightly so that it wouldn't fly over the cliff. Just as soon as the cork was out, the genie emerged as well. Gilligan hadn't even considered that the genie would come out again when he pulled the cork out of the bottle. Of course, he should have known, based on past experiences, but somehow it had slipped his mind.

Gilligan grinned widely when he saw the genie emerge from the bottle.

"Genie!" He threw his arms around his friend, who gladly hugged him back.

"You know, Gilligan," the genie said, "As much as you'd like to keep me here, and as much as I'd love to stay here with you, we both know that you must toss my bottle into the ocean at some point. I can't stay here forever."

"Oh... I know that," Gilligan told him, "I really do. I was just going to put this note into the bottle for the next person who finds you," he held up the note, which he had wrapped up into a scroll-shape, "promise not to read it..."

"I won't read it," the genie assured him. The genie looked at the rising sun, "Wow... this view really is a step up from inside the cave. I haven't seen an ocean sunrise in a long time."

Gilligan frowned, "I'm sorry I kept you hidden away in the cave all this time."

"It's no problem at all," the genie smiled down at him, "I told you myself that I didn't mind it, remember?"

Gilligan thought back. He had asked the genie if he would mind staying in the cave, and the genie had indeed told him that it wouldn't be an issue, "oh, okay," Gilligan smiled. He and the genie sat on the cliff, looking at the rising sun (not directly at it of course, because it would have damaged Gilligan's eyes.) For what could have been fifteen minutes they looked out over the glistening water and at the colorful sky, neither of them saying a word. The scene was beautiful, and Gilligan was very happy to share it with his friend before they had to part.

At the same moment, Gilligan and the genie looked away from the sunrise and at each other. They both knew this was the proper time to say their final goodbye.

Gilligan handed the note to the genie, "don't read it," he emphasized again.

The genie nodded, "I promise," he said.

Gilligan embraced the genie again, "goodbye for real this time," he said, feeling tears coming to his eyes.

"Goodbye, Gilligan," the genie told him, "your friends are lucky to have you here, and I'm lucky to have met you."

"Thank you for being one of the best friends I've ever had," Gilligan told him, "goodbye."

Gilligan squeezed his eyes shut as he and the genie said their goodbyes, to prevent himself from crying, and so he wouldn't have to see the genie vanish into the bottle for the last time... The genie's embraced tightened slightly, and then faded away as he disappeared into the bottle one last time, taking Gilligan's note with him.

Gilligan looked down at the bottle. It was shiny just as it always had been before. He gently lifted it off the ground, feeling the smooth cool surface of the glass as he held it in his hands. He hugged it to his chest, closed his eyes, and said quietly, "I hope you find someone really nice." He opened his eyes, pulled the bottle out in front of him so he could see it one last time, and then threw it as far as he could manage into the waves of the sea. As the genie had said, the bottle went much farther than it should have, given Gilligan's tossing ability.

Sighing, Gilligan sat down on the cliff. He didn't really know how to feel... He was happy that a new person was going to get the opportunity he had gotten, and he was happy the genie was going to make friends with more wonderful people. At the same time, however, he felt really sad that he had made such a wonderful friend, only to have to say goodbye to him, knowing he'd never see him again.

Now he wasn't quite sure what to do. He didn't want to go back to camp. He didn't want to sleep. He didn't want to explore, or swim, or play coconut bowling. He just wanted to sit on the cliff and do nothing. He even considered just laying down and crying, but just as he was about to do so, he was greeted by the familiar feeling of small paws on his back and on the back of his ear, the warm wet tongue of his beloved dog Willy.

Gilligan grinned. He could always count on Willy to keep him in a good mood, even in the worst of times. Gilligan had felt so alone seconds ago, but now that Willy was next to him, he instantly felt better. The genie was gone, but Willy would be with him forever. Gilligan pulled Willy onto his lap and hugged him as Willy saturated his face with doggie kisses. Gilligan laughed and fell back onto the ground. Willy excitedly licked his face, bounded over Gilligan, back and forth, and ran in circles around him.

Even though he was on a cliff, the spot Gilligan currently found himself in was grassy and rather soft. Finally, the impact of having stayed up all night hit him, and he instantly felt exhausted. Sleeping right here on top of the cliff didn't seem like such a bad idea.

So Gilligan stayed laying down as he felt his eyelids growing heavier and heavier. He hoped none of his friends would worry when they didn't find him in his hammock in the morning. Surely they were used to him wandering off all the time by now... Gilligan breathed in and out, feeling himself becoming more and more tired by the second. He could see Willy nearby, walking in circles around him with his ears perked up as though he was on guard duty.

The last thing he saw before drifting into sleep was Willy curling up beside him, laying his head lightly on Gilligan's chest.

xxxxxx

The End

_**xxxxxx**_

_**Okie dokie... That's all there is.**_

_**This story had its ups and downs and sometimes it didn't quite seem to flow as it should have, but I hope you liked it overall... I sort of did. My original thought was to just write something including my exaggerations of the characters... I thought it would be funny to portray each of them as being a little crazy, like the professor with his drugs and the Howell's with their monopoly money and all that... The genie was just something I pulled out of the air in order for the crazy characters to have a plot to fall into. It turned out that the genie idea was actually pretty easy (and fun) to work with, and I could have written the entire thing keeping everyone in character instead and would have probably been more successful in gaining readers. **_

_**I realize that my version of the characters sort of eased out of their crazy alter-selves and back into their true selves from the show, but I would say that all has something to do with the genie granting Gilligan's wish that everyone would stop fighting. They were all in a really good mood, and Skipper and the Professor felt sort of bad for being mean to / drugging Gilligan...**_

_**Eh... The story's done now, and I'm sure as hell not going to go back and re-write half of it in order to change it to where everyone is in-character... This story is what it is... take it or leave it.**_

_**Thank you for reading. (and for reviewing if you were one of my reviewers. Especially Teobi, who reviewed lots of times) ^_^**_

_**I'm busy bee, but I might try to write Emo-Gilligan at a later date. (that would be a comedy.) Also, I realize that most Gilligan's Island fans wouldn't be into a comedy about Gilligan being an emo. My sense of humour is very... well, I don't know, but there's a good chance that what I think is funny wouldn't be funny to most other people... not on the Gilligan's Island page anyway.**_

_**I love you for reading this. ^_^ Good Bye.  
**_


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